Bye Bye, Little Shermy

Sherman's gone up to the great big heater in the sky.

Sherman Luke Simba Sam Tesla Gump Oram, known to many as "Sherm", 18, of Allegan, Michigan, passed from this life July 18, 2013. He was proceeded in death by his frenemy, Yoda.

Sherman came to us a bit earlier than a kitten should, and we suspected this contributed to his special quirks. As a kitten, his infuriating persistence landed him across the room on more than one occasion and his proclivity for noisily licking plastic shopping bags yielded remarks that he was "tetched in the head".  Indeed, it was his bag fetish that led to the infamous Cat War between Sherman and Yoda.* He never received an official diagnosis, but those close to him surmised he suffered from Kitty OCD and/or allergies, and he would often lick patches of his fur clean off.

Sherman, swaddled in my t-shirt as a kitten

From birth, Sherman had a longer than average tail, which extenuated his bony frame. Finickiness about food and his tendency to binge and purge when anxious contributed to his fur-and-bones figure.

In his later years, which were about the last 12, Sherman was known for being a 'grumpy old man cat'. His favorite pastime consisted of sleeping in a warm place, preferably a lap, and he would meow and meow until you sat down and yielded to his neurotic kneading. A sunny patch by the front door, a large padded mailing envelope on the table, or directly in front of a space heater characterize other favorite napping spots, though he would occasionally choose under the covers so you almost accidentally sat on him or right inside the back door so you had to step over him.

Despite his quirks and conditions, Sherman led a plush life. A goblet of water near his padded envelope and a heated cat pad in the corner represent a few of the luxuries afforded him, not to mention a caretaker who regularly obliged him her lap for hours at a time while watching television or talking on the phone or reading or falling asleep in the recliner, to name a few occasions.

He will be missed not for his less-than-dainty meow or spontaneous vomiting, but for his listening ear, perfect little nap circles, and regular companionship. You were part of the family for 18 years, Sherm, and you will not soon be forgotten.

*No one knows exactly how it began, but one night after we had all gone to sleep, out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter that we all sprung from our beds to see what was the matter. It sounded possibly like a clumsy intruder, for a strange cry had been vocalized and there were empty pop cans strewn about everywhere. Yoda stood at the bottom of the stairs, hackles raised, and hissing. Sherman could not immediately be located, but a thorough search of the house found the poor guy quivering under a bed with his back end stuck through the handles of a plastic bag, which he had soiled. For many weeks hence, Sherman was banished to the top of the steps and Yoda would hiss any time Sherman tried to come down.