The Saga of the Viking Kitten

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The Saga of the Viking Kitten

Once upon a time
There was a Viking cat
Who slept up on the cupboard
And dealt with all the rats
She was cute and cuddly
And could purr up quite a storm
But when the little mousies came
She jumped down and did them harm
When Lars and Sven, and Ingovarr
Were planning their next raid
They went aboard their DragonShips
And a discovery was made.
All the stores of ludivisk
And meads of lingon-berry
Had been gobbled up rodents
Some large and fat, and hairy!
The Viking kitten hearing this,
Swore to the Valkryies up above
She would go upon the dragonships
And battle all Ro-den-tia
She packed her favorite yarn-ball
And her favorite cat-nip sloth
She picked up her tiny sword and shield
And the Viking-Kitty was off


“All Hail, the Viking Kitten,
Too dangerous to be ignored
See her out on the battlefield,
Slaying all with shield and sword

Brave North-land little Kitty
No stranger to Foreign Shores
When you go a-viking
You want this Cat Aboard!”

The seagull’s cried, the foam flew past
And the waves they raged and tossed
Our kitten killed off all the Sea Rats
Down below, and up aloft
When the dragon-ships hit Normandy
And the Vikings hit the shore-banks
The Foemen were bewildered
To see a Kitten in the battle-ranks!
All those Snobby French Poodles,
Well, she made short work of them
And the English host, became a scratching post
To our buzz-saw little whirlwind


In Ireland, chewing on her catnip sloth
Our Kitten went beserker!
With the foam-flecks coming from her little mouth
No weapon there could hurt her
Those Irish Wolfhounds, with teeth so large
All the great hounds ran and flee’d
They ran like hell when our kitten charged.
And then one became her steed!
Our Viking kitty was now was cavalry
As she led a heroic attack!
Laden with now, with lots of treasure,
Our ships came sailing back


Skalds do sing, and warriors regale
Of two pounds of Feline Fury
And If you prevail, they’ll recite the Tail
Of our Kitten so brave and furry
So now she’s sleeps upon the window sills
And sunlight melts her bones
And the king is proud to have her with him
Curled up there on the throne
When you come to visit the Great Hall,
Drink some mead and take off your hat!
Hold off on being loud until the evening…
We’re trying not to wake the Cat!

Written for HRM Kolfinna, on the Occasion of the Festival of Rose and her Natal day, 2009.

THL Thomas Whitehart (aka True)