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THE SCRATCHING POST
Issue #46, by Barbara Stanley, home2cats@aol.com
Home 2 Cats, P. O. Box 752671, Memphis, TN 38175-2671
Endangered Species
In Loving Memory
of Leo Meyer
March 22, 1922 - October 29, 2010
Embedded deep within my DNA molecules is a segment that contains a gene labeled ‘animal lover and rescuer’. Scientists may not agree with my theory and would probably credit that this attribute was obtained through parental teaching and guidance. I believe in both.
Both my parents were animal lovers but their views on animals differed due to the differences in their upbringing. My mother grew up on a small dairy farm so caring for animals was a way of life. All animals, including pets were housed outdoors. My Dad, on the other hand, being the twelfth child, grew up in an active household filled with plenty of people and pets. Dad had the greater influence on me, ingraining within me his approach to nature and all God’s creatures.
Dad was a World War II veteran, sheet metal worker, educator, consultant, author and publisher, and these constituted just the tip of the iceberg that was this incredibly talented man. He drew on his sheet metal background and artistic talents to create metal sculptures and beautiful woodcarvings incorporating his love of animals into many of his pieces.
His artistic and creative talents were also very apparent in his beautiful Japanese style garden with ponds filled with Japanese Koi he had individually named! His garden contained many feeders to accommodate the many species of birds ‘tweeting’ in the yard. (‘tweeting’ – old term used ‘back in the day’ for a pleasant sound a bird makes not a function on the internet!) No bird left his yard with an empty stomach.
Occasionally, his Japanese garden appeared picture perfect with the rare visit of a crane. Even though the crane was a beautiful enhancement to the garden, he wasn’t a welcomed guest when his dreams of ‘sushi’ and the use of his excellent fishing skills became apparent.
I don’t recall Dad raising his voice often but one time really comes to mind. Anyone that has or has had a Labrador Retriever, knows they are just happy-go-lucky goofballs. One day we arrived home to find our ‘goofballs’ proudly displaying their handiwork of a shredded sofa. In retrospect, the scene was comical as Bo and Baron bounced around with tails wagging, pink tongues flopping back and forth and sofa-stuffing hanging out the side of their mouths. I can still recall how angry Dad was at his two ‘faithful’ companions. But, like I said, Labs are goofballs and you can’t stay mad at them long, even if they ate the family’s one and only sofa. In the years that followed, we could always make Dad laugh bringing up the sofa story.
In the evenings Dad would unwind by taking Bo and Baron for a run. One such evening, when Dad returned he quietly sought me out, which didn’t take long, by using the "modern" device of that era. Back in the "‘dark ages"’ before cell phones, family members actually shared one phone (attached to the wall for heaven’s sake!!). Those phones had an amazing tracking device called a cord, which made it easy to locate the person using it. So Dad followed the cord to my bedroom, slowly opened the door and, with a sly grin on his face, reached into his jacket and then gently placed a piece of furry ‘fluff’ on the floor.
The tiny ‘fluff’ walked into my room without hesitation and took over my room, my heart and, within what seemed like mere minutes, the whole house and every creature residing there. Bo and Baron had found the kitten in a field during their evening run and this tiny creature had kept two large dogs at bay. Pooh Cat, as he came to be known, never forgot the control he had over dogs and he took full advantage of that bit of power the rest of his life. I can’t begin to convey (or even remember!) how many dogs of every size this cat intimidated just out of shear pleasure.
When Larry and I married, Pooh Cat was part of the ‘dowry.’ Larry, Pooh and I moved about 60 miles from Dad and the dogs. Shortly after the move, Pooh refused to eat, was listless and began losing weight. A trip to the vet yielded no definitive explanation or diagnosis. My heart was breaking as I watched my buddy decline. We decided to take Pooh back to Dad’s. If Pooh was going to die, we wanted him to be with the dogs he loved and in a house that was familiar to him. We drove to Dad’s that night. Our trip was rushed, as Larry had another work shift in a few more hours. Tears flowed as we said our goodbyes to Pooh Cat, and I feared I wouldn’t be seeing my precious companion again.
Back home, the phone was ringing as we walked through the front door. We were informed that Dad had been sitting on the kitchen floor a good part of the hour, hand feeding the ravenous cat prime rib. It seemed, shortly after Larry and I walked out the front door Pooh Cat planted his furry little bottom in front of the refrigerator and meowed non-stop until a feast was served. Pooh had simply been homesick for Dad and the dogs and things that were familiar to him! (Note: If Larry and I had known there was prime rib in the refrigerator rest assured we would have planted our behinds down and meowed also!)
Pooh eventually adjusted to his new family structure and home. He trekked back and forth for a while between households until he decided that the long car rides took the fun out of the visit.
Dad enriched many lives, two-legged and four-legged. A special person in Dad’s life would often refer to him as an "endangered species." And that he was!
When Dad left his physical body on earth, my heart was comforted
as I was certain there were Labrador Retrievers anxiously awaiting his arrival -
their tails-wagging, ready to accompany him on his final journey and rejoin him
for eternity.
- - H o m e 2 C a t s . o r g - -
Cat Tails
Words to Love By
Two cats are a circus, three cats a coup, and six a revolution.
