Morris the Cat
When I was a child of about nine, there was a cat in a commercial and his name was Morris. The interesting thing about Morris is my mother had a cat that looked just like him and so she named him Morris. Morris was a big orange tomcat and as calm as a cat can be, especially since he was a stray. Mother got him his shots and fed him in a bowl on the front porch. He came by a few times every day for food and love. He would eat and then climb up in mother’s lap to be talked to and petted. She loved that cat.
Being the ever helpful child I was, I decided Morris needed a bath. I took mother’s large canning pot and lid out in the backyard, filled it full of water from the hose – which was very cold especially since it was a hot summer day- and dish soap. I then went around the house and found Morris sitting on the porch licking his paws after eating his latest meal. I picked him up and lugged him to the backyard. Once I reached the canner, I put Morris in the water, and he immediately got angry and scared and tried to get out of the pan. In his efforts, he scratched my arm and drew blood, which made me angry and I shoved him in the water and put the lid on the canner.
I grabbed the canner by the handles firmly holding down the lid and shook it for all it was worth to make sure Morris was good and wet and soapy. After all, he needed a bath. Once I was sure he was clean enough, I sat the pot down to open it so I could rinse him. As soon as I loosened my grip on the lid, however, it exploded, cat and all! Morris flew out of the canner scowling and screaming and ran for the road. He shot up the street like a ball shot from a cannon. I stood there dumbfounded watching him run. I was rubbing the scratches on my arm and thinking I should have asked one of my sisters for help.
A few days later I was sitting on the swing on the front porch when mother came out with a glass of Pepsi and sat down in her favorite chair. She sat there often watching children from the neighborhood play and people going up and down the street. All of the sudden she looked up at Donna, my aunt, and said, “I wonder what happened to old Morris? I haven’t seen him for a few days and he hasn’t come to eat the food I left for him.”
I turned my face where she couldn’t see it for fear she would see that I knew what happened to Morris. I jumped down from the swing, hopped on my bike and rode around to the back yard. Guilt filled my body but so did fear. I was afraid of what mother would do if she found out what had happened with Morris. I was thankful she hadn’t seen the scratches on my arm for fear she would put two and two together. I sat beneath the old tree in the backyard with a million things running through my mind. I was sorry Morris got mad. I didn’t mean to make him mad, but he needed a bath and then he scratched me. I was not aware at the time that cats, especially tomcats, did not like water, (let alone cold water on a hot day).
I learned some very valuable lessons that day, but even though mother wondered out loud about Morris for weeks, I never told her what happened to Morris. A couple of years ago, we had a family reunion at Jacobson Park and we were all sitting around talking about memories. Someone mentioned the old commercials that Morris was in. It was a cat food commercial. Of course, this memory sparked mother’s memory of old Morris. She said, “I used to have an old tomcat I named Morris because he looked just like that cat. I wonder what ever happened to him.”
Since I was forty years old and no longer afraid of mother’s wrath, I looked up at her and said, “I know what happened to Morris.”
“What?” she asked with curiosity in her voice.
I relayed the events of Morris and his bath. Mother’s eyes filled with flames and her face turned red. “I loved that old cat. I walked the streets night after night looking for him afraid he was hit by a car and you ran him off. I asked all of you kids what happened to him and you never said a word.”
“I wasn’t going to either, I knew you loved that cat and I was not about to make you mad. I didn’t know you were out walking the streets at night to find his body. He moved on up the hill to Oak Hill to another house. I saw him sometimes while waiting for the bus for school but he wouldn’t come to me. I felt bad about it.”
There was a round of people scolding me and others laughing, but the mystery of what happened to old Morris was finally out in the open and mother could put her curiosity to rest. I never tried to bathe another old tomcat. I did bathe some kittens from time to time with flea bath. I always started them out young with the water and it was always warm. I learned many lessons as a child and how to bathe a cat was one of them.
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