I once had a cat named Simon, a very tall short haired grey and black striped and spotted male that adopted me when he was about nine months old.  He just showed up one evening while we were eating a Bar-B-Q’ed dinner on my portion of a big wrap-around-porch on the 100 year old Victorian home where I rented an apartment and he never left.  Partly that was because he had a propensity for getting hit by cars, a “skill” he demonstrated that evening and twice thereafter.  The 3rd time was the “charm.”      

He lived thru that night’s episode with one leg broken but fixable.  The 2nd time the same leg had to be pinned, he broke his pelvis and had a “tailectomy” but again lived.  As I said, the 3rd time was the charm.   

However to get to the 3rd time, he moved with me three times, grew to be a mature, large almost monster size cat and had everyone calling him a bobcat because of his tail…or lack thereof.

I called him Simon, of course, and also “The Trashman” because he would bring his “kills” for my inspection and he felt his biggest scores were McDonald’s Hamburger Bags and Large Empty Coffee Cups.  He’d “bag” one of these babies and start yowling and howling and running for home to show it to me.  How he could jump a 4 ½ foot chain-link fence, with something in his mouth that would completely cover his face and eyes, I could never fathom but he did.  He’d also bring home parts of newspaper…he liked the color ad page inserts the best…, receipts, pictures…he brought home a picture of a casket at a funeral once…, the odd business card, and much much more.  I tried to get him to play with paper money hoping he’d like the smell of it too but that little trick never took.   …WHAT I never said I was a REALLY good person, I’m just one who strives to be good; most of the time.  So lock your windows!

Anyway he was a favorite of mine (I love all my Catz, each one better than the Rest) and he was great free entertainment at my Bar-B-Ques; my guests really enjoyed him.  Between his dog chasing & trash antics and my baby chickens falling out of the tree when trying to roost, we had our own little 3-ring circus with beer.

He was also “The Watch Cat.”  He would circle the house every evening to check everything out.  He chase off dogs if they were trying to get into the yard.  He’d come and demand food but when I put it out, he sit back and let the others eat it first; the oldies, the youngies, the wildies, and the infirm always had first dibs when he demanded food.  Very odd for a cat, sometimes a shy or old one will leave off eating because of a more aggressive one but usually the aggressive cats just bogey the dish after they demand a feeding. 

His last car incident was on my birthday several years ago and I still miss him at times or use the wrong name for Colton, who looks a lot like him, but with tail and is much dumber…although I guess you could call a cat that is hit by a car three times dumb too.

Anyway, in remembrance of my Simon, I’m posting the two cat songs I wrote for him.



 Simple Simon would go real far…if he didn’t always get hit by a car.  He walks kind o’ funny cuz his leg’s twice broken and as for his tail, well it’s just a token!    


 Put the pennies on my eyes and stickz my tongue back in, for you no longer haz to criez ‘bout what this cat dragz in.