Monday, May 17, 2010

Thunderstorms

Whenever it storms, I think of my cat Morris.  The very first time I saw him, he was soaking wet.  I remember the day very well, it was Saturday, October 17, 1998. The Great Flood of 1998.  My first cat Isobel and I were hanging out, watching the news about all the flooding that was taking place, when we heard a soft knocking at the door.  Curious, I opened the door...and there was Morris. (He had been scratching at the door, but since he had been declawed he didn't really have anything to scratch with.)  He was drenched and mad as hell about it.  He looked at me, as if to say "Don't. Say. One. Word."  I looked at him, laughed out loud, and told him to come in.  And he did, which is the smartest thing Morris has ever done.  I got a towel to dry him off, but he was having none of that.  He just curled up in a corner and started giving himself a bath.  Isobel looked at Morris and I could tell that she was not pleased, but she didn't move from her comfy spot on the couch. 

 Isobel had a name for Morris, and that name was Dum-Dum.  You could just see it in her look whenever Morris was around her.  Occasionally she would just smack him in the head, as if she was trying to reboot him.  Morris never even blinked.  We figured out that Morris was around three when he showed up at my door.  

Since that day, Morris and I have had many adventures.  Most of our adventures have had to do with him doing something very stupid and me having to rescue him, such as his adventures with local dogs.  Morris likes to eat toilet paper, french fries, and bbq sauce.  He's a messy eater, more like a steam shovel than a cat, but he's super finicky about his world.  He likes to jump on top of open boxes and fall off of window sills for no apparent reason. It's been a learning curve for both of us. 

Morris hates the vet, and they aren't too fond of him, either.  One of the vets doesn't have any problems with him, but the other usually requires several technicians to come help her just for his yearly exam.  One time they ended up sedating him so they could examine him and he was still fighting them even though he couldn't move very well.  Another time they took him out of the room to check his bladder, and it took every available person in the building to do whatever it was they did, and Morris was screaming that unearthly screech that cats do the entire time. 

Fortunately, for the vet as well as Morris, he is a healthy cat!

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