Chapter 36 (Animals I’ve Known and Loved, cont.)

MORRIS THE CAT

When I had first brought Wendy home as a pup, our cat Muffin made it clear he had no regard whatsoever for this little pup. Once when something caught around my tiny Springer’s body, Muffin caught the other side and dragged the pup along the floor. Muffin made his point, “Dog, you are nothing to this cat!” But Muffin’s personality was more typically independent of an old grumpy cat. He was loved, but he wasn’t too loveable.

When the Lyons moved into the Ashe’s empty house next door, it wasn’t long before they acquired a yellow striped cat, like Morris, in the cat food ads…thus, he was named Morris. Sue Lyons called me down the hill to her lawn to meet their new acquisition, and Wendy accompanied me. Their two month old kitten came around from the front of their house, and headed directly for Wendy, and slowly wove his way between all for of her legs, giving himself a good rub while he was at it. Wendy stood as stiff as a statue, afraid of what was about to happen. Being used to “Muffin-the-grump,” who let everyone know that “Cats Rule!” Wendy was sure Morris was going to suddenly turn on her. But Morris wandered out from beneath Wendy and came over to me just expecting my picking him up. Morris was the nicest cat I ever met. He had a warm friendly personality and charm that was beyond what I’ve ever seen in a cat before that or since. He was fearless only because he found the world was a kind place. He loved everyone, and everything, and showed his affection without reservation. The most remarkable thing about Morris was that he would come over each evening at the time that August was going to bed. He would nap with August or Alby, but liked the top bunk bed. He would stay for as long as it would take for the boys to get to sleep, then he would trot out to the dining room, and “ask” to leave. It was as if he decided it was his job--to be the warm loving animal to curl up next to the child in the top bunk to help him to sleep.

Morris loved to climb trees, play and chase things, but never got carried away like most cats or kittens, as he never bit nor scratched anyone. He would even get Wendy to play with him and won her trust over as a cat she could trust.

Morris’ life was short-lived. I never really forgave Sue for having him put to sleep when his paw somehow got smashed. While we were on vacation Morris had come home one day limping. His right forepaw was quite a mess. Sue took him down to Dr. Norris. Being a no-nonsense country vet, he asked if Morris did a lot of climbing. When Sue said yes, he recommended euthanasia and Sue agreed.

When I came home, Sue had difficulty telling me, as he knew how much I loved that cat, but we saw things differently. I guess she was being kind in her way of thinking. Maybe Morris would have been miserable if he couldn’t climb…But I doubted that! I never saw or knew an animal before or since who had such a zest for life, even if it was a life with only the use of three of his legs. If I had been home and knew what decision she was going to make, I would have pleaded for Morris’ life. I think the boys and I grieved far more over Morris’ death than Lyons’ family did.

It seemed that special animals that touched my life were impressive, but short-lived. It was heartbreaking. Perhaps their life was a rare and special gift given to us for just a little while, and we should think of the joy we would have missed without them. I miss them still, but if they were greatly loved, they deserved to be missed.