The Beautiful Clouded Leopard

Poem I wrote about my favorite animal: the clouded leopard

Neofelis Nebulosa

I am a beautiful jungle feline,

The name Neofelis Nebulosa is mine.

Clouded leopard you may also call,

But when first discovered, I fooled them all.

I am a medium size cat,

A rainforest is my habitat.

I’ve made many adaptations

Some of which are weird mutations.

My food has long since taken to the tree

So an excellent climber I learned to be

I am extremely spry

And more secretive than a spy.

I am perfectly at home in the canopy

Watching and ruling the animals under me.

My biome is the tropical rainforest

And my power here is enforced.

My ecosystem’s climate is warm and wet,

And with poor soil the plants are met.

The temp. stays between 93 and 68 Fahrenheit,

Longitude 95, latitude 20 is our global site.

Water and sunlight keeps us alive,

They are key factors to helping us thrive.

While the leaves filter out a lot of the sun,

It still gets the job done.

Humidity here is always high,

Perhaps that’s why so many animals here fly.

For here the animals are in wide variety

Including deer, tiger, birds, snakes and monkeys.

The plants are rich in variety too

Including the jambu, kapok tree and bamboo

But despite the plants, I’m a carnivore

Cause plants are just a bore.

I influence the carbon and oxygen with my respirations

My effects on my surroundings is a true inspiration.

The nitrogen cycle is helped by my waste,

Without me things would fall apart in haste.

While I’m my surroundings, I am not above all,

Certain things still brings death’s call.

Humans are my biggest threat,

For when I’m not being poached, I’m kept as a pet.

Yet is they stole me completely away,

Population boundaries could not stay.

If my species life went out,

The world’s variety of animals would have a drought.

How could a morning going so good end up being so bad?

How could a morning that started off so good end up going so bad?  I was in the middle of my am medicine pass this morning and checked the clock.  It was 6:05.  “Good,” I thought, “I am running about 20 minutes ahead.”  That meant I would have time for more in-depth interaction with some residents, which is my favorite part of the job.  At that exact instant, my cell rang.  It was the nurse working the other side of the building.  “Girl, come quick.  I think I have a code,” she says.  I rushed over and with one look at the patient, I knew she was dead.  She didn’t have the sticker over her bed that represents DNR, so I knew we had to do CPR.  The other nurse was upset saying, “I don’t know what to do!  What do we do?  I have never worked a code before!” So I told her “calm down, you have been taught this many times, you know what to do.  Just take a deep breath and do what you know.”  I had to do a quick refresher for the cna on doing chest compressions because she has never done CPR on a real person before either.  After making sure they were doing CPR correctly, I went to call 911 and make that dreaded call to the family.  I called the daughter.  As my luck would have it, she says, “Oh my gosh.  I am in the parking lot.  I came to see Mom before work.”  I hung up and hurried towards the room, intending to intercept her in the hall.  Her cries of  “Mom!  Don’t leave, Mom.  You have to fight!” let me know I hadn’t reached her in time.  I re-entered the room and sent the other nurse to make copies of paperwork.  I tried to keep the CNA focused on giving correct CPR, as the daughter’s heart-wrenching cries filled the room.  After what seemed like an eternity, the EMT showed up and took over the code.  They left for the hospital without getting a pulse or respirations going.  About 20 minutes later, the other nurse came to tell me the patient hadn’t made it.  She was upset.  I reminded her that even if someone collapses in front of you, CPR is only successful in very rare cases.  This resident was relatively young and still full of life.  My mom is the same way and we are very, very close.  I can imagine the anguish I would feel had I been in that daughter’s shoes.  I’m sure her cries will echo in my mind for quite a while.  My job is usually great and I enjoy it.  But sometimes, like this morning, it just sucks! 

Native Americans have many varied traditions.  This picture looks to me like it could have been taken at the New Echota Indian Camp just outside of Calhoun.  If you have never been, you should go experience it.  It is a place that holds many Indian artifacts and history.  There are old, old houses there that the Indians built as well as tools and such that helps us understand their way of life before the trail of tears occurred.  They were forced from their homes and lands.  They were forced to march from Georgia all the way to Oaklahoma and forced onto reservations.  Having grown up on a large piece of land and being very grounded and connected to that land, I can only  imagine how devastating that must have been.  Every year, New Echota hosts a remembrance ceremony.  Usually, groups of Indians gather to celebrate their resilience and remember the lost.  This particular picture looks to me like it could be for a ceremony of remembrance.  Perhaps the pictures on the outfit are of loved ones that have been lost.  The outline of the guns represents  the fact that the Indian peoples will always fight for independence and justice.  The papers in his hand represents the treaties that the American government signed with the Indian people and then did not honor.  The ram-shackle, falling down old house shows the state of disrepair and poverty that most of the Indian reservations are in.  However, the brilliant yellow color of his costume represents the spirit of the Indian people.  It will always shine brightly.  The wings on his costume represents two things.  First, it represents the soul and the spirit of the lost loved ones flying free.  Second,  they represent that the Native American spirit will always fly free and overcome the hardships they face.

more poetry

I’m going to share more poetry today so here goes:

It Wouldn’t Be Me

Do not cry for me now,

Because no one cried for me then.

No one cried when I whispered

About the end.

No one took notice,

No one took heed

They all assumed

It wouldn’t be me.

I was too happy,

My clothes were too bright.

No one noticed

My inner plight.

I laughed too much

My smile was too bright

No one caught on

That I was losing the fight.

They all assumed

It wouldn’t be me

No one noticed the forced laugh

Nor the bitter smile

Only one noticed

When I disappeared for a while.

No one took notice

No one took heed

They all assumed

It wouldn’t be me.

poetry

            It has been a particularly rough morning.  I got into a nasty argument with my ex-husband.  You would think that now that the girls are over eighteen, he could leave well enough alone, yet he continues to call with his bullshit.  And it never fails, that within the first few sentences out of his mouth, he manages to piss me off and bring up all that old anger and hate.  So I wrote a poem that I think sums up our hell of a marriage perfectly, and that is what I want to share today.  I usually don’t share my poetry at all, but this new phase in my life is supposed to be about taking new risks and doing new things, so here goes.

Your goal is to bring me down,

Your goal is to make me drown.

And it used to work every time.

I used to fall to your cruel words,

I used to fall for the angry look,

Everything I had you took.

You would tell me it was my fault,

And without fail, I’d fall again,

Deep into despair again.

And the tears would streak down my face,

And you’d smile knowing you put me in my place.

Then one day, your game went wrong

When I didn’t give in to your evil song.

I stood my ground.

I caught the ledge.

This time, I didn’t slip off the edge.

You looked for tears,

But you found your fears.

I no longer cared for what you thought.

I refused to be the victim you sought.

The game is over,

This time I’ve won.

I’m free of your hate,

This time, it’s it. never too late.

            Writing poetry has always been a source of stress relief for me.  It’s really weird to let anyone else read it though.  I hope you all like

I have the best dog ever

About two years ago, I adopted a dog from the animal shelter.  I had been to the shelter seven or eight times without finding the right dog.  I finally decided I would try one more time.  If I didn’t find the right dog after that, I would look around for a breeder.  I was about half way down the row of kennels when I saw her.  She was sitting in a corner shaking violently with her back turned towards the people.  I said, “that’s her”.  The attendant offered to let me take her out into the yard to play with her, but I knew that wasn’t necessary.  I took her home that day.

She spent the first two months hiding under the bed, shaking violently whenever I called her out to interact with her.  She would flinch like she was about to be beaten within an inch of her life every time I moved.  Slowly, she started to trust me.  Today, nobody would ever know that she was that same dog.

About four months ago, my boss asked if I could work a double.  I told her I would if I could bring my dog.  I didn’t have anyone to take her out to the bathroom.  My boss agreed as long as I brought a copy of her shot record with her.  I didn’t have her on a leash at all.  I knew she wouldn’t go far from my side.  She stayed close to me all that day.  The patients and the visitors loved her, so my boss told me I could start bringing her to work with me.  She has gone to work with me every day since then, always staying close to me.

Last night when we got to work, I found that a patient was about to pass away.  Her family had gathered at her bedside.  I made a “comfort tray” full of coffee and snacks and delivered it to the room.  The family loved seeing Koda there.  I soon returned to the nursing station, expecting Koda to follow within a few minutes.  To my surprise, Koda, who never spends more than a few minutes out of my sight, spent most of the shift in that room.  The patient passed away peacefully about four a.m.  As the family gathered their belongings to leave, all they spoke about was the comfort and peace they got from Koda being there.

Human beings must have put her through hell for her to become the terrified dog that she was.  It is amazing to me that she has not only forgiven humans, but she tries to give of herself to bring comfort and peace when she can.  I have the best dog ever.