Damn good cat: Good-bye Merita, my surly Maine Coon

ATHENS, Ga. – Merita Morales, a surly Maine Coon feline who loved people but had a distaste for all other animals, died of natural causes Monday afternoon. She was 88 years old (that would be 18 in cat years).

Never more than 10 pounds during her adventurous lifetime, Merita lived in more places than most human beings. Born in Coral Gables, Fla. and discovered under a set of stairs, Merita was found by Joe Morales, who still shows the scar of that first meeting.

Merita, in full fluff

“She scratched the crap out of me,” Morales said. “She stabbed at one of my fingers and left a mark. It bled for some time, but she was so furry I couldn’t be too mad.”

Already having a crotchety cat of his own, Morales believed the perfect place for his discovery was with his son Ed, who lived in a shotgun shack outside of Milledgeville, Ga.

A few weeks later Merita (ridiculously named Poncée at first) met Ed, who would take her with him for the rest of her life. Merita (so named after the feisty woman in Hemingway’s Garden of Eden) quickly adapted to her new home and owner. The shack (which had only a wood stove for the cold winter nights) afforded plenty of opportunities to chase insects and an occasional mouse, and during the winter Merita would snuggle at Ed’s feet under the foot of the covers. A stray dog stayed with the two for a little while only to leave suddenly one day for no apparent reason, but Morales suspected Merita talked him into taking off.

“I know it sounds weird, but it would not be the only time another animal would flee the fearsome feline,” Morales said.

After a year in the shack, the pair moved to a lake house on Lake Sinclair, where Merita came to love the great outdoors. A screened in porch afforded a view of the lake, and passing birds made for frantic screeches from Merita, who liked to flex her feral muscle. It was also where she first met Jon Tully, who would be one of her best friend’s for life.

“Every time I showed up she would come and sit in my lap,” Tully said. “She had a huge purr for such a small cat.”

After a year on the lake, Ed got a job in Pennsylvania – Merita was on the move again.

State College proved an interesting two-year stint, as Merita saw snow for the first time (118 inches that first, harrowing winter) and started her habit of attacking women Ed would start to date. One of Ed’s girlfriends earned a special disdain with Merita after she gave Ed another cat as a gift. Named Puck, he was a lively male calico who Merita disliked right from the start.

But he wouldn’t stay long.

The apartment building Ed lived in often had workers come for regular maintenance who rarely closed the door during their visits. Coming home from work one night Ed couldn’t find Puck anywhere, but Merita was happier than she had been in some time, almost grinning with glee. Like the Shakespearian character Iago, Merita no doubt talked into Puck’s ear and urged him to take a chance with the outside world. That first night without Puck, Merita merrily purred a certain refrain: Out out damn Puck (yes, I know it’s from McBeth, but stay with me here).

After two years in State College, another move was afoot – this time to Tallahassee, Fla. Merita’s new home was a house in a quiet neighborhood, and with no other animals to contend with, it was a happy time for her. While she didn’t much care for Ed’s girlfriends, Merita liked the visits from his nieces Sarah and Samantha, and was always happy to see Joe Morales again. But after 14 months of bliss for Merita (and abject bitterness for her owner), the two moved to West Palm Beach.

It proved a life-changing move for both.

Ed moved into an 6th-floor apartment with a balcony overlooking a lake, where Merita would spend hours sniffing the Florida air. She continued to enthrall in being the only animal and grew to like her new home – she didn’t even mind when a new girlfriend came into Ed’s life. Merita didn’t fuss or throw a fit when Kristen appeared – she accepted her from the start.

Ed and Kristen were getting married, so they found a home to share as they made plans for the wedding. Moving was nothing new to Merita . . . but there was something else.

The great cat war of Aught One lasted for two years, pitting Merita against Munster, Kristen’s rotund cat. Munster was curious and wanted to be friends with Merita, but she was having none of it. The two cats commandeered different parts of the house (Merita the guest room, foyer and living room; Munster the main bedroom, dining room and laundry room – the kitchen was Switzerland because of the cat dish), and an infraction of Munster into enemy territory would bring shrieking howls from Merita. It was not unusual for Ed and Kristen to be awakened by kitty fisticuffs, and there was no peace to be found.

But two years later, the war was set aside when a new entry to the household arrived.

When Ben, a black retriever/corgy/something else was left on the Morales’ doorstep one July 4 weekend, the two cats had a common enemy. Neither Merita nor Munster were ready to deal with a puppy, so now the hissing fit between the two was steered toward Ben. Ben, a happy-go-lucky mutt, just wanted to play, but Merita set him straight early on with a swift slash to the nose with her piercing claws. Despite growing to five times Merita’s size, Ben would spend the next seven years afraid of the minuscule Maine Coon, even deferring the water dish anytime Merita came near.

Merita’s final move was to Athens, where she spent her final years king of the roost, even when a toddler was added to the household. She would try to get outside whenever she could, and at times would make it into the backyard and through the wooden fence. In her final days she had trouble moving, but would sit with Ed and watch TV at night, like she did when she was a kitten.

Merita – the tiny Maine Coon with a huge purr and endless affection for her owners – will be missed. She was one of a kind.