The kitten who loved to hunt became
a ghost-cat who could truly walk through walls,
stalking the phantasms with spectral tooth and claw
and leaving their corpses to be stepped on
by humans who shrieked at the inexplicable cold spots on the floor.
The puppy who loved to chase cars became
a ghost-dog who could run at the speed of dark
and once cornered a mailman that turned out to be a serial killer.
The police who caught the crook swore they heard a dog barking,
but no dog was ever found.
The parakeet who learned to mimic ringtones became
a ghost-bird who could fly where only angel wings go,
bringing a peck or a feathered caress wherever needed,
and little hunches of the soul that no would would remember
with more than, "A little bird told me."
The pets who live with people become real,
their animal spirits bounded by the bright line of love,
forever defined in ways that reach beyond the oversoul of species.
They remain, watching the people, wandering between wind and stars,
until Mother Earth draws them close and cloaks them in flesh again.