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(Why Calico Cats are Considered to be Good Omens) © 1992 L.Eckstein Long ago in Holland, near a small town, there lived an old man, who made his living by selling milk. Each day before dawn he would begin his preparations for his daily rounds by going out to the barn and milking his small herd of cows. His good wife had died some years before and as he had no children, he was alone in his work. Although he had many acquaintances and all of his customers were friendly, he spent his evenings and his mornings alone in his work and often he thought of she, who had been not just his wife but his friend, sometimes his tormentor and always his finest companion, and at these times he was very lonely. All of that was to change one morning as he went out to milk the cows and get ready for his rounds so that the townspeople and especially their children could have milk for butter and cheese and other things like bread and pastries. As he milked his favorite cow, talking softly to her and mostly to himself, he felt a brush against his leg as he sat on his low stool, and heard a small quiet sound. Looking about, he discovered a little cat sitting quite close by and watching him. A most beautiful little cat with a soft shiny coat of many colors. "Ha!", he exclaimed in delight, for he had a great love of animals, "you look like one of my old woman's quilts", for the Dutch are a frugal people and indeed the good wife had turned many a rag into a colorful blanket or coat. And for just a moment he ran his hand over the surface of the coat he wore and remembered how she had scolded him to not wear it on his rounds so that people would see how poor they were and how he would change into his good black coat to go into town. But in truth they had not been among the wealthy of the area or even among the well to do. He and his beloved wife always had cheese and bread and plenty of good things to eat but instead of jewelry his wife had roses, which she loved and tended, and they spent their days in companionship and love and with the cows, the milk they gave to the couple to sell, and the occasional visit from someone who wanted to buy roses they'd had a long and happy marriage. Nowadays he sometimes wore the raggedy, patchwork coat to town although he always covered it with his good coat (not quite so good anymore) and if the people muttered to themselves about how poor he looked, still they bought his milk and cheeses and sometimes they came to get a cutting or a rose from his wife's bushes which still flourished although he could not tend them as she had done. Looking at the little cat, he smiled broadly and exclaimed, "You, little one, have made this a good day for me and for this you deserve something very special!". Matching action to words, he got a small bowl and filled it with warm milk by the fireside of his home, before he went on his rounds. He was happier than usual all through the day as he met folks and greeted his customers. I'm sure a few of them talked about what could have gotten into that crazy old man but they smiled and laughed as they bought his wares. One was inspired to give him a crusty loaf of freshly baked bread for his table and another a small bit of ham and to his delight, one, busy with her canning, gave him a small jar of jam. He returned home that afternoon, in very good spirits, thinking about how good his life was and to his absolute joy found the little cat asleep in the sunlight of the late afternoon, in the middle of the quilt, so like her, that covered his bed by the window. When he reached to stroke her, for it was a female as are all calico cats, she stretched and began to purr and he felt the happiness of finding a friend. Life for the new friends quickly became a new routine. She would rise with him in the morning and share his breakfast. He would have tea with cream and she would have cream without tea. Then, together, they would go to meet the cows and milk them and while he was busy with the milking she would hunt mice in the big barn. They always finished their work together and she always watched as he went off to his rounds before she went to nap on the quilt that covered the bed by the window. And so the days went by. Now it would seem that life couldn't have been happier for a while. Then some of the local children discovered that people would come to the old man's house, while he might be away, to pay him for the milk and cheese he brought them. If he was not there, they would slip the coins under the door and tell him about it the next day on his rounds. These children, led by a mean little spoiled brat who was the son of the local Burghermeister, discovered that by breaking off a stem of the old man's beloved rose bushes and sticking it under the door they could steal the old man's pennies by raking them out from under the door again! This they did with increasing regularity. At first the old man was only confused and teased the little cat, now grown fat, about how she shouldn't steal his pennies because there weren't all that many of them and without them they should starve, and he would look about and sometimes he would find a few the children had missed. But soon he began to wonder if maybe the people were lying and had thought maybe because he was old he would forget. " Old, most certainly I am", he thought to himself," but my mind is not failing yet". Practice improves some techniques and soon the Burgher's son could steal all of the old man's pennies. He was proud of the fact that none caught him at it, or so he thought. On the other side of the door the cat had been watching the pennies and the stick and had begun to play with the pennies herself. Using her paw she would rake them away from the door and she too got better with practice. This went on for quite a while as the old man got gloomier and his relationship with the townspeople got worse until the day the Burghermeister, himself, embarrassed the old man in the town square by loudly proclaiming that because he was a stupid old man was not sufficient cause to make a nuisance of himself in the town. Badly embarrassed and feeling downhearted and ill, for he had not been eating from the worrying and trouble, the old man returned home. He stroked his little cat, picked up his few pennies (unusually far back from the door) and teasing the kitty about it in a soft sort of way, he then went to bed, where he lay ill and asleep with the little cat beside him for most of the next day and night. On the second day as he lay napping, unaware that some good soul had slid some coins under his door (for not everyone was angry with him, there are many good people in the world), he was awakened by his little cat jumping to the floor and going to watch at his door with her head cocked slightly to one side and her tail swishing from side to side. First, he saw the pennies but as he watched, a rose stem snaked under the door. As it felt about the floor, the cat would keep the pennies away from it by batting them about with her delicate paws. Finally, with a sudden high pounce, the little cat grabbed the stick and held it tight and from outside the door in a child's voice came words children shouldn't know and adults shouldn't use. By then, the old man had risen from his bed and when he heard the voice he threw open the door. The young bully was far too scared to run and the old man had no trouble grabbing him by the collar and shaking him as he had often seen his little cat do to mice. Scared and shaking, the young man began to cry and with the tears came confessions and soon the two were on their back into town. The young bully, rather unceremoniously, was held tightly by his ear as he was urged along the path of repentance by the ministrations of the old man and was followed closely behind by the little cat as they all started into town. They made quite a sight to behold as they came to town, the old man with the bully in one hand and a rose switch in the other, followed close behind by a small multi-colored cat and behind her, a growing crowd of curious townspeople attracted by the cries and threats of the young bully, whose ear was becoming very painful from the strong hands of the old man. You might be able to imagine that there was quite a parade by the time they all arrived at the house of the Burghermeister, all laughing, talking, pointing and asking questions. Hearing the commotion, the Burgher was in front of his stately house to meet them and after the crowd grew a little quieter and some sort of order was restored, they were all quite astonished to hear the story of the cat, the pennies, the bully and the rose bushes from the Burghermeister's son, himself (although I doubt the story would have been so truthful if he could have gotten his ear out of the old man's grip)! With the telling of the story the Burgher's face grew redder and redder and the laughter of the crowd grew louder and louder and soon order had to be established all over again. The Burgher took his son roughly by the collar with one strong hand, shook him all over again until the boy thought his head might fall off and with the other hand he took the rose switch from the old man. Turning the boy over his knee there in front of everyone he used, first, the switch until it splintered and, then, his hand, until it grew red and painful, to spank the young bully until the child could no longer yell for the tears streaming down his face. All this was accompanied in counterpoint to the laughter and jeers of an approving crowd. Afterwards the Burgher asked that all wait until he returned. Stepping inside, he returned after a few moments with two small purses. Calling for quiet, he gave first one and then the other purse to the old man, saying in a loud voice as he did so, that the first purse was for the coins his son had stolen and when the old man looked it was full of pennies, more than he'd lost. But the second purse was for the damage to the roses, and when he looked in that purse it was full of silver (for the Burghermeister's wife had often gotten roses from the old man's wife in the past and I think perhaps she made the Burghermeister pay the second purse). The crowd cheered and clapped and all wanted to see the marvelous cat and shake the old man's hand and slap his back and there was laughter all around except in the Burgher's house where there loud words and tears behind the closed door. At last the man and his cat went home, burdened with small gifts from the people (for nobody liked the Burgher's son) and made happy with promises from others to help with the cows and the rounds until he was well again. And as the days passed he would have visitors from time to time and help from his neighbors when he needed and when the little cat had kittens, as little cats will do, they all got good homes even if they weren't all calico. Everybody wanted to have a good luck cat or as some smiled and said, "a money cat". I'm told that the young bully eventually grew into a fine young man, honest and upright; that he attended university, graduated to practice law and that he was just; the Burgher paid more attention to his home and less to his ego and the roses still bloom in the summer all around that city, now grown large in our time. kaj admits freely that she did not type this, (she stole it from some other page) and since she did not feel like checking for typos, please let her know if you see any. thanks. | ||||||