The Pelican
Many people, with whom I’ve spoken about Elsa and the other Frank Lake pelicans, have quoted a poem about pelicans. Sometimes, they aren’t quite sure of all of the words, and they usually think that the poem was originally written by Ogden Nash.
There’s a website with the URL https://quoteinvestigator.com/ that I consulted about this issue. The people on that website decided to research the poem, and they tried to determine the original author. They listed 18 references at the end of their discussion about the poem and the people who have been associated with it.
Although Dixon Lanier Merritt, Ogden Nash, and others have been given credit for writing the poem, the Quote Investigator found that C. M. Marshton is the actual author of the piece. They say that it was published originally on April 2, 1913 in The Tampa Morning Tribune. The original words are as follows:
A gorgeous bird is the pelican.
Whose beak will hold more than his bellican.
He can put in his beak
Food enough for a week,
But I’m d----- if I see how in hellican.
The New York Times, on the other hand, was quite emphatic, in an article on January 11, 1972, that Dixon Lanier Merritt wrote the original poem in 1913. I think I like the wording slightly better than the original one that was declared by the Quote Investigator. Here's the poem that the New York Times published:
A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill will hold more than his belican.
He can take in his beak
Food enough for a week,
But I'm damned if I see how the helican.
A Swan
A bird, magnificent, beyond the tall grass.
I paused, to try to get a better look.
He too seemed curious about the visitor
To his little brook.
Serene, unhurried, he silently approached.
There were only two of us at this time.
My, the grace this bird possessed.
I hoped that I could save an image so sublime.
He came right to me.
Our thoughts intertwined.
For a brief moment, our worlds were still.
I pondered of swans; he wondered of humankind.
I raised my camera.
And, tried to frame a moment.
A swan that I may never see again,
I now remember, as he was: a gift that nature sent.
John Reasbeck, 2008
A Cat
Stretching, readying motion that humans can only envy.
A cat steps lightly and surely, unafraid of heights or terrain.
Ballet-like, yet with gymnastic prowess.
A cat makes its own way in the world.
It is expected that humans will assist with mundane chores.
Like litter box duty and prompt feeding.
Should cats feel so inclined, they will curl up and purr.
Just don’t expect sociability; they’ll come near, if they feel like it.
Seeking comfort and quiet times, resting muscles for later.
Playtime is attacked seriously; much claw sharpening is required.
When hunting is to be done, skills and tools will have been honed.
It is perhaps unfair to prey that a cat should have such weaponry.
Nice to have around? Yes, a cat may choose to keep you.
If you play your role properly, and meet expectations.
John Reasbeck, 2008
HEMI
March 25, 2006 to August 25, 2022
The poem entitled “A Cat”, in the previous section, was inspired by our Hemi cat. He came to live with us 15 years ago, when our home was in Connecticut. We adopted him from the Westerly Animal Shelter in Westerly, Rhode Island. A few months after we welcomed Hemi, we went back to the shelter to adopt Fitzi, his brother.
Sadly, Hemi passed away today, on August 25, 2022. He had developed kidney disease and other ailments. He had stopped eating and drinking, and he was seemingly just seeking to be at peace. We tried to fix things, but his ailments were too severe.
Hemi was a black polydactyl (extra-toed) cat. His name came from Ernest Hemingway, who also had polydactyl cats. Hemi’s brother, Fitzi, was a black polydactyl cat as well. Fitzi was named by our daughter. She took his name from F. Scott Fitzgerald, who was a friend of Hemingway’s.
In spite of what I implied about hunting proficiency in my poem, Hemi and all of our cats were inside kitties. Hemi, Fitzi, and Andy were satisfied with being in our house. They watched out the windows, but they didn’t seem to long to be out there themselves.
Fitzi left us on December 4, 2020. Andy (aka Creampuff) left Hemi to be our only kitty on October 20, 2021. Since then, we have enjoyed the company of our Hemcat.
After Andy’s passing, Hemi wanted to be quite close to us. Kathy and I have become used to eating meals while being seated on our living room sectional. We watch TV at dinner, and we listen to music at breakfast. Hemi positioned himself between us. If we were so inclined, he appreciated being offered a taste of "people food." And petting was always welcome.
Hemi seemed to be purring every time I checked. I'm not sure when he ever stopped purring. He was a happy cat, and he seemed to enjoy just being alive. He loved to watch the birds on our feeders. He never had the opportunity to examine them closely, nor did he seem to want to do that. But they captured his interest.
Hemi had a very distinctive and pointed meow. When it was past when he thought that he should have been fed, he called our attention to the problem. Hemi missed the part, when he was a kitten, of learning to cover up in the litter box. Although he must have seen our other cats do that, he never did. He would usually meow afterward, seemingly letting us know that the litter box needed work.
We miss all of our kitties very much. But memories of Hemi occupy a special place in our hearts, because we got to know him so well when he was our only kitty.
Our house is instantly very empty. When we came in from the garage today, after Hemi’s last trip to the vet, there was no meowing, questioning our absence. There was no kitty asking to go out on the balcony to check on our backyard. The litter boxes were in exactly the same states as they were when we left.
We cannot imagine inviting another kitty to live with us at this sad time. However, it was so gratifying to have shared our lives with three kitties that needed homes: Hemi and Fitzi were rescued from a shelter, and Andy lived with my mother before she became too ill to take care of him.