Author: Geri

Harold Zimmerman was a feral cat at my job site. He was a fearful looking, black male cat, with a bent tail, when I first met him. Of course, he had to be neutered as soon as possible – well, in MY book, he had to be! He had a bad wound at the base of his tail which definitely required attention, so he was trapped, neutered, received his shots and had his wound treated. Harold and I then embarked on a long and ever changing relationship! By the way, I have no clue why I named him what I did, just seemed to fit him. He quickly learned where and when to appear for food, and he was kept with a supply of water and dry food, while canned food was dispensed 2X daily in his presence.

Over the years, he met and sort of socialized with (or tolerated), many other strays: Mr. Goldman, Anna Maria Alberghetti, Monty, Chrissy, Lou Christie, Jackrabbit, Rosemary the Imposter and most recently, Daily News. Harold endured so many rough winters that it seemed impossible for him to keep on enduring; however, he managed to do just that, even after he was attacked by someone (dog? cat? raccoon?), who relieved him of most of his right ear. There were times that he disappeared for days, weeks, or even a few months – always to come back and pick up where he left off! One time he had been missing for about 3 months – I had just about decided to stop leaving food for him when suddenly, there he was! He surely must have read my mind!

As time went on, and all of the other cats were not around any longer, except for Daily News, Harold persevered and it seemed as though he’d go on forever. He, was, of course, getting older and nobody believed that a feral cat could last so long without the comforts of an indoor home. Yet, he went on and on and on! He seemed to have symptoms of kidney and thyroid disease, also suddenly had 2 different size pupils, and had started becoming extremely
“vocal”, yelling at me every day! I had many discussions about him with my vet but we always came to the same conclusion – I couldn’t treat him for anything he might have and, since he didn’t seem to be suffering, to just let him be. After many years of wishing I could pet him, he WAS coming closer to me but not close enough. Then, suddenly, I was able to give a quick touch on his back when I put down his food. He wasn’t thrilled but didn’t run away. Well – next thing that started was the most surprising thing of all and, while it seemed comical at first, it became a very unsettling, even scary, situation. Harold started to come right up to me, would try to jump into my car, and would go after me,
with his nails out.

I had to start using a plastic fishing pole cat toy, to lightly hold down against his side as we walked to where I placed his food, to keep him from scratching me. Sometimes, he’d suddenly run to my right side, instead of my left side where he generally would walk, and one day, he had me hopping around in heavy rain, trying to go for me. He also must have had decreased vision and hearing, as he wasn’t getting out of the way of my car when I parked every day before feeding him. At this point, after an awful lot of thinking, discussing, staying awake at night, and changing my mind, I knew what had to be done. I was not only afraid that he might get run over, but might go off somewhere and lay there suffering – or, he might try to attack other people.

Thus, after surviving for all those years, in all kinds of weather and different situations, Harold was escorted to the Rainbow Bridge. He was a cat who respected life enough to hang on for so long – and who earned my respect along the way. So, let’s offer a toast to him like the one that was sung in “Fiddler on the Roof” – “To life, To life – L’Chaim” – a toast for Harold Zimmerman, who was 18 ½ years old.