My uncle named Morris after the cat from the nine lives commercial. They were almost identical. He had told his girlfriend at the time, “you can get a cat, just please don’t let it be an orange one.” She of course fell in love with the sad orange furball at the pound and had to bring him home.
Morris and I were the best of friends. Everytime our car pulled into my uncle’s driveway, Morris would run to greet me, meowing all the way. My uncle knew he would never be able to split us up, so whenever I was visiting Morris was allowed indoors. He used to purr so loud I’d have to turn up the tv.
I give that cat props for putting up with me. I’d drag him along on every adventure (trips to the bathroom, climbing the avocado tree in the backyard, and trying to befriend all the other neighborhood cats.. to name a few). He was also the star of my original TV show, which was filmed on my father’s flip phone, called Morris the Great and Wonderful where he would sit and look into the camera with little interest.
When I think back to my fondest childhood memories, they are always the ones spent with that heroic cat (and when I say heroic, I mean it. He saved me from many hours of boredom). I’m sad to say I don’t even have a picture of him, what I wouldn’t give to get my hands on a copy of that TV show I made. Whenever I’m missing him I look up Morris from the nine lives commercial (I highly recommend you do the same) and pretend it’s my Morry.
So here’s to you Morris. Thank you for putting up with me. And I’m sorry that sometimes you had to hide on the roof because I was bugging you too much. But you never bit or scratched me. You never even hissed. It’s like you understood I needed you to be my friend. And you were a damn good one.
I love you Morris.