March 1996
CAT BIOGRAPHIES
My uncle (John Shaw Sr) recently e-mailed me asking for the
names of all my mother's cats over the years. He made her a nice card for
her birthday ( March 12, as all of her offspring are required to know and
celebrate) which depicted all of her cats wishing her a happy birthday from
the Great Kitty-Cat Beyond ( see also The Great Scratching Post in the Sky).
I was in a hurry to get to work that night so I sent him just the names
but it seemed so cut and dried. I'm working on a family tree for Brad so
hopefully I can include this elaboration in our family genealogy file so that
history will know The Cats of Virginia Morbeck (soon to be a miniseries).
The 20's and 30's- a great time to be a cat!
OSCAR and OSWALD: Not much is known about these two other than the fact
that they lived in Verona, NJ with the Shaws on Sylvan Road. I don't know
if they ever had anything to do with the Sylvan Snakes. There is little in
the historical record about these two but they were no doubt fine cats.
The 30's and 40's- cats involved as the world went to war!
The beloved HENRY was not actually one of my mother's cats, but he
deserves honorable mention because of his place in history as a sainted
family cat. He belonged to her cousin Dick Watson in Wisconsin and
apparently could perform all sorts of tricks. Tragedy struck our nation
when he died mysteriously, poisoned by a German Spy. This has always been
one of Sally's favorite stories of just how heinous the Germans were at that
time, "We will destroy de morale of the Americans by sneaking in and killing
their cats - they won't be able to go on."
The 40's and 50's- the postwar Cranford and Fanwood years
The first in a long series of Morbeck family cats was named BO-BO
(actual name: BEAU BRUMMEL) . He was a black and white cat who was
known for his wit, intelligence, and hunting abilities. This might have
been the cat who brought home the Easter Bunny and left it on the front porch
(dead) when ME and Kay were just adorable little girls in Fanwood. I'm a
little hazy about this one.
The 50's and 60's- The Pussy Willow years
The greatest cat of all time was the SAINTED PUSSY WILLOW . My mother
always threatens that she will leave all of her money to the "Pussy Willow
Memorial Home for Unwed Cats," a noble charity. This will probably be
written up in the local paper with a headline that starts, "Crazy Cat
Lady..." . Pussy Willow was an old gray tomcat who was the greatest fighter
the world ever knew. We think that the reason he was so tough is that he had
to prove himself because he had such a wimpy name. When the Morbecks moved
from Fanwood to Westfield he found his way back to his old neighborhood about
4 miles away - a somewhat incredible journey. In Westfield, he continued to
fight the cat wars - my mother and Mrs. Potts would meet outside in the
middle of the night with pans of water to throw on PW and Christopher ( the
Potts' cat) when the yowling would become unbearable. This cat taught me
about the spoils of war early - Christopher died due to his wounds from one
of the fights and Mrs. Potts brought over to our house a gigantic bag of cat
food "that he won't be needing anymore." Victory is sweet. Kay and her
friend Carolyn Schultz never used his slave name and preferred to call him
HERMAN, seemingly more suitable. She tried to take him to school on a
leash one time for show and tell and got less than 100 ft. A cat's cat.
The 60's- a turbulent time for our nation, a turbulent time for Morbeck cats
While Pussy Willow was still alive, Kay brought home a cat that
everyone hoped would be a little bit more cuddly. His name was BOW-KNOT
(real name: BEAUREGARD NOTTINGHAM). Bow-Knot was a really stupid cat who no one really liked. He did, however, perform one incredible feat. He ran
away one time and went into the piped-in brook near our house and managed to
crawl through the tunnel over a mile all the way to the Westfield Public
Library downtown. He apparently kept coming into the library over and over
no matter how many times he was thrown out and would try to sleep up on the
reading tables. Luckily my mother knew the town Librarian who either
recognized Bow-Knot or heard that he was missing. Bow-Knot got hit by a car
on Knollwood Terrace at a tender young age. Mr. Schultz cleaned him up.
Which brings us to EEYORE. Sometime after the sainted Pussy Willow
died downstairs under the ping pong table, EEYORE arrived. Kay and Carolyn
Schultz were coming back from a Presbyterian Church camp in northwestern NJ
when they were crossing over a rural mountain road (Schooley's Mountain) and
saw an irresistible "Free Kittens" sign. Eeyore was a gray cat who had two
homes which meant two breakfasts, two lunches, two dinners (a cat's dream).
Kay's best friend was Carolyn Schultz, and Eeyore's best friend was MOSES
Schultz, who lived behind us. It was convenient that both cats had total run
of both houses - when either family would go on vacation, no arrangements
were ever made- we could just leave and the cats would figure it out for
themselves.
For some reason we never learn to leave well enough alone even after
the first unsuccessful second cat experiment (see BOW-KNOT), and we kids
started beating the drum for a "little brother for Eeyore". I spent two days
crooning "Eeyore needs a brother" to the tune of Frank Sinatra's "Strangers
in the Night" and sure enough Nancy brought home a cute little black and
white Persian from East Brunswick, NJ. We named (him) FIORELLO (after
Fiorello LaGuardia) which lasted only about a week when it was discovered
to almost everyone's surprise that Fiorello was actually a female. Nancy
used her Latin Class training in the various endings for various genders and
voila'! FIORELLO magically was transformed into FIORELLA (real name: FIORELLA
VICTORIA).
The 70's- Fiorella and Orpheus remain as the Nest empties.
Fiorella became the ultimate homewrecker as Eeyore didn't feel like
hanging around to see what having a new little brother (sister) would be
like. Coincidentally at this time , Mr. Schultz was transferred to Tulsa for
Cities Service, selling Mose's house to a bunch of cat stealers name Schloss.
Eeyore would still seek refuge there (now more than ever), but his friend
Moses was now wearing a 10 gallon hat 2000 miles away and meowing in an
Oklahoma drawl. The Schloss' gave Eeyore some stupid new name and started
feeding him , even though my mother went down there and specifically asked
them not to. Eeyore does hold the distinction of being the only dissatisfied
cat in my mom's long line of cat customers.
Back to Fiorella - she was the only female cat we ever had and she
soon proved it by going into heat almost immediately. Her debutante party
attracted many suitors- among them, BLACKIE, ORANGEY T. KITTYCAT, and a big
ugly gray tomcat known to us only as BIG AL (as you can see, we didn't waste
the creative names on casual acquaintances). There's a series of snapshots
somewhere of me rescuing Fio out of a tree while her admirers no doubt hid in
the bushes.
Mother's Day, I'm not sure exactly what year-
The blessed event finally occurred on Mother's Day when Fiorella gave
birth to two fine young sons who looked like wet little rats downstairs in
the playroom. We counted about 5 kittens being born - obviously we saw the
same two over and over again, as it was tough to see in the darkness (births
do almost always seem to happen in the middle of the night!). One kitten
was promised to my friend Read Jackson who promptly named the one with nice
black and white markings MRRR-MRRR ( a name totally unpronounceable by any
human tongue. MRRR-MRRR went on to live two blocks away where he became the
greatest bird hunter any of us had ever seen. I'll never forget watching
this sleek hunting machine slowly moving down the driveway while stalking one
of his thousands of victims. They had 5 or 6 bells tethered around his neck
to try to give the birds a fighting chance but I swear he moved so stealthily
that they never rang until it was too late and it just served to add to the
drama of the kill. Silence Silence Ring Ring Shriek Shriek.
The 70's and the 80's-The OJ (Orpheus James) years.
MRRR-MRRR's (would you like to buy a vowel?) brother was a jet black
cat who we named ORPHEUS (real name ORPHEUS JAMES). He was promised to Mrs.Potts next door but the official cat hand-off was never actually
accomplished. This didn't stop him from going over and shaking her down for
various kitty treats on a regular basis, however. Orpheus and Fiorella
lorded over the household like no cats ever did before. They seemed to
compete in all forms of evil cat activity such as scratching furniture, stealing people
food off of the table, and meowing loudly in the morning while being locked
in the basement. Fiorella at least knew she was being bad when caught
purloining chicken legs from the table when my mom's glance was momentarily
averted -- Orpheus (not the sharpest pencil in the box) would usually just
sit on the table and stare blankly, never knowing the nature of his crimes.
After Fiorella departed this great ball of string which we call
Planet Earth, Orpheus ruled 761 Hyslip Ave for the remainder of his days.
He died sometime around July 20, 1985- I'll always remember this because this
was the day Sally and I were married (July 20:MEN WALK ON MOON day). My
mother graciously kept this information secret from me until after we
returned from our honeymoon in Moosehead Lake, Maine (she was afraid it would
ruin the festive mood of the occasion). We stopped in Westfield on our way
back to Philadelphia . I was there with my parents about 1/2 an hour when I
suddenly looked up and said, "hey, where's ORPH?" The house was totally
catless for the first time in years.
The late 80's to early 90's - A serious cat shortage until...
The last in the long line of my mom's cats arrived sometime in the
early 90's. The guy at the camera store in downtown Westfield that I used to
hang out in when I was in high school just happened to know of a cat who
desperately needed a home. Vinny (where else but in North Jersey do you
really find guys named "Vinny") knew a friend who had a friend, etc, etc who
had a cat, etc, etc - you probably know the rest by now. This was the first
cat who came with a name already : Tom, which my mother lengthened to
THOMAS, because she didn't feel she knew him well enough to call him Tom.
As with most previously owned ("used cat" seems so seedy) cats, fact and
fiction tends to blur when such issues as his actual chronological age is
concerned. It would seem that he is actually much older than originally
advertised but he is still a very nice cat. His major talent is the ability
to drink water pouring from a cup held 5 feet above him, usually in the
safety of the shower or bathtub- it really is quite amazing how he lines
himself up under the steady stream. His previous owners had his front claws
removed so that he remains predominantly an indoor cat, mostly by his own
choice.
Conclusions to draw from this lengthy treatise-
There are none. This started out as a harmless one page message and
quickly got out of hand. Talk to you all later.
Rob, Sally, Brad, Mrs. Krukker, Mingamo
UNCLE JOHN SHAW'S REPLY:
I casually mentioned to VSM that I had received this and she quickly announced,
"that was a nice email, but of course he's almost completely wrong!"
(said with a certain amount of disdain mixed with pity that only an older sister can summon)
Subj: illustrious cats
Date: 96-04-21 19:31:22 EDT
From: JohnShawSr
To: MorbeckRob
Rob:
We had a good chuckle over your cat biography seeing as how we knew some of
them personally. I wouldn’t say they were our friends, but acquaintances at
best. I will fill in what I know about Oscar and Oswald. We presume they
were half brothers several years apart in age. Their mother was reputed to
be a full blooded angora residing at the Charlie and Katherine Hawkins house
in Bloomfield, NJ. They were both born during the depression but I am not
aware this caused any of their psychological defects. Their main diet was
canned mackerel which smelled so bad when you opened the can it was best you
feed them on an empty stomach (yours, not theirs). My main memory of Oscar
was that in the spring he stationed himself in the gutter and picked out the
chunks of ice floating by and made a pile on the berm (devils strip Dad
called it). He actually stood in the icy water for hours when the ice
fishing was good. He too was a good birder. So much so that Mr. Eyre from
Sutton Place (NJ not NY) came over and offered to drown him in Verona Lake
after he watched Oscar devour one or more Robins. One time he brought in a
garter snake he had met in the woods and invited him home. He left the
abused snake under my bed. I don’t remember what happened to him but I have
a feeling he went to the vets for a long nap or life without parole at least.
Oswald was such a zero personality that I don’t remember anything about him.
I believe it was about the time I went to Wisconsin and I never heard from or
of him again. Your mother will be able to fill in all the gaps in this
story, I’m sure. John