Today we said goodby to Nermal, our calico cat of 20 years.
for a character in the Garfield comics
She came one icy winter day to my kitchen door
and mewed tiny desparate crys
I opened the door and said, "Oh no,
please don't come here."
She was just skin draped on bones
ice hanging from her fur, and no bigger than
a pound of ground round.
Yellow and orange and black
swirled and mottled, a tiny thing
that looked up at me with
huge green eyes.
Shivering at my feet
she managed a tiny mew
And agian I said, "Don't come here!"
I quickly closed the door and
and paced to and fro, knowing I was doomed.
I opened the door again and there she shivered
mewing with more desperation.
It was over. I had a cat.
We went through all the stages
scratching, pooping, peeing.
Learning about the scratch box
watching her play with ribbons
and balls. Wathcing her chew on
my good furniture. Watching her
destroy upholsery. Trying to demand
she sleep in the bed provided
but finally understanding that
cats sleep where they want
and Nermal wanted to sleep on me.
She preferred my head.
I liked to sleep until the alarm went off
that was my goal.
But Nermal's goal was to wake me
as often as she could.
About dawn every morning, she
jumped off my head and went to
the bedroom door scratching
until I awoke, to let her out.
If I left the door open, she would wait
until I fell back asleep and return,
jumping upon my head, a nice way
to be routed from a dream.
If I closed the door after she left
in the early morn, she would simply
scratch on it until I opened it.
Finally, I thought, I'll outwait her.
But after 10 minute of scratching
didn't get her what she wanted,
she simply slipped her paw
under the door, found the
springed door stop and
twanged it loudly.
I got up. Let her in
and swore she was going
to the pound any day now.
But that never happened
because Nermal was weird.
She was a comic. She knew
lots of ways to make us laugh
mostly at my expense.
She awaited me on the back of a winged
backed chair, I would pass by and she
would attack. Causing me to visit the
bathroom. She ambushed me from
beneath the couch to grab my slippers
or socks, sending my heart rate flying.
And every night we had a fight about
where she would sleep and when she
would come to bed and get up in the
morning. She also had an irritating habit
of making me come watch her eat.
She mewed and mewed at my feet
until I would follow her down to
the basement where her food was
then, I had to stand there and watch
her take at least two bites.
One day, her life was changed, Lily
was added to the family. Daughter
Jenna brought in a young kitten,
black and sassy. Nermal, by now
an aging queen of the castle, did
not appreciate the frolicking upstart.
Every approach Lily made to Nermal
was met with a quick dispatch of a paw
and claws. But Lily was full of herself
and unafraid. She continued taunting
Nermal throughout her life. And until
the day she left us, Nermal always
got the best of Lily, even when she could
not get up onto her feet. She could still
reach out with a paw and knock
Lily silly. Nermal also had to withstand
the indignaty of living with a dog for a year.
Our eldest daughter and her daughter had
to move in with us for a year and they brought
along Pete, a very friendly Australian Sheperd.
Nermal was appalled. But she maintained her status.
Any gesture toward friendship by Pete was met with
Nermals claws. Pete, being a perpetual pollyanna,
continued his attempts at friendship and finally won
tolerance. During this year, the three animals agreed
on a sleeping arrangement. They would all sleep
with me. Nermal on my head, Lilly at my knees and
Pete at my feet. By this time I had come to dislike
all of them but for some reason I was their favorite.
As time went on Nermal grew less active and
more withdrawn. and we all knew she was running
out of time. But everytime we thought she was at
her end, she would perk up and act like a youg cat.
Finally, she stopped mewing and began crying like
a baby. She stopped grooming herself and she
stopped sleeping on my head. She looked sad.
Lily looked sad. When Pete visited, he looked sad.
We all knew it would soon be over. And then the day came
and she could not stand up. For weeks we had said,
we need to put her out of her misery. But we never could
But this day, for all she had been to us, we couldn't let
her down. And so we said a final good-bye, after 20 years.
Nermal was the most beautiful cat I have ever seen in my life.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 501 times
Written on 2008-09-19 at 23:49
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The Calico Cat Is Gone
She was not quite normal, so we called her Nermalfor a character in the Garfield comics
She came one icy winter day to my kitchen door
and mewed tiny desparate crys
I opened the door and said, "Oh no,
please don't come here."
She was just skin draped on bones
ice hanging from her fur, and no bigger than
a pound of ground round.
Yellow and orange and black
swirled and mottled, a tiny thing
that looked up at me with
huge green eyes.
Shivering at my feet
she managed a tiny mew
And agian I said, "Don't come here!"
I quickly closed the door and
and paced to and fro, knowing I was doomed.
I opened the door again and there she shivered
mewing with more desperation.
It was over. I had a cat.
We went through all the stages
scratching, pooping, peeing.
Learning about the scratch box
watching her play with ribbons
and balls. Wathcing her chew on
my good furniture. Watching her
destroy upholsery. Trying to demand
she sleep in the bed provided
but finally understanding that
cats sleep where they want
and Nermal wanted to sleep on me.
She preferred my head.
I liked to sleep until the alarm went off
that was my goal.
But Nermal's goal was to wake me
as often as she could.
About dawn every morning, she
jumped off my head and went to
the bedroom door scratching
until I awoke, to let her out.
If I left the door open, she would wait
until I fell back asleep and return,
jumping upon my head, a nice way
to be routed from a dream.
If I closed the door after she left
in the early morn, she would simply
scratch on it until I opened it.
Finally, I thought, I'll outwait her.
But after 10 minute of scratching
didn't get her what she wanted,
she simply slipped her paw
under the door, found the
springed door stop and
twanged it loudly.
I got up. Let her in
and swore she was going
to the pound any day now.
But that never happened
because Nermal was weird.
She was a comic. She knew
lots of ways to make us laugh
mostly at my expense.
She awaited me on the back of a winged
backed chair, I would pass by and she
would attack. Causing me to visit the
bathroom. She ambushed me from
beneath the couch to grab my slippers
or socks, sending my heart rate flying.
And every night we had a fight about
where she would sleep and when she
would come to bed and get up in the
morning. She also had an irritating habit
of making me come watch her eat.
She mewed and mewed at my feet
until I would follow her down to
the basement where her food was
then, I had to stand there and watch
her take at least two bites.
One day, her life was changed, Lily
was added to the family. Daughter
Jenna brought in a young kitten,
black and sassy. Nermal, by now
an aging queen of the castle, did
not appreciate the frolicking upstart.
Every approach Lily made to Nermal
was met with a quick dispatch of a paw
and claws. But Lily was full of herself
and unafraid. She continued taunting
Nermal throughout her life. And until
the day she left us, Nermal always
got the best of Lily, even when she could
not get up onto her feet. She could still
reach out with a paw and knock
Lily silly. Nermal also had to withstand
the indignaty of living with a dog for a year.
Our eldest daughter and her daughter had
to move in with us for a year and they brought
along Pete, a very friendly Australian Sheperd.
Nermal was appalled. But she maintained her status.
Any gesture toward friendship by Pete was met with
Nermals claws. Pete, being a perpetual pollyanna,
continued his attempts at friendship and finally won
tolerance. During this year, the three animals agreed
on a sleeping arrangement. They would all sleep
with me. Nermal on my head, Lilly at my knees and
Pete at my feet. By this time I had come to dislike
all of them but for some reason I was their favorite.
As time went on Nermal grew less active and
more withdrawn. and we all knew she was running
out of time. But everytime we thought she was at
her end, she would perk up and act like a youg cat.
Finally, she stopped mewing and began crying like
a baby. She stopped grooming herself and she
stopped sleeping on my head. She looked sad.
Lily looked sad. When Pete visited, he looked sad.
We all knew it would soon be over. And then the day came
and she could not stand up. For weeks we had said,
we need to put her out of her misery. But we never could
But this day, for all she had been to us, we couldn't let
her down. And so we said a final good-bye, after 20 years.
Nermal was the most beautiful cat I have ever seen in my life.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 501 times
Written on 2008-09-19 at 23:49
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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