[roundbox color=”000000″ backgroundcolor=”ae76f7″ bordercolor=”000000″ borderwidth=”1″ borderstyle=”none” icon=”” ]This post originally appeared on my very old blog in April 2006.[/roundbox]
In our small town of Dyer, there are numerous stories that almost everyone (at least the “old-timers”) knows by heart. Some have spawned phrases that are now part of the local lexicon… The tale of “Charlie Moore’s cat” spawned such a phrase.
“He’s faster than Charlie Moore’s cat…”
I’ve heard that someone was faster than Charlie Moore’s cat since I was very young child. I knew that something faster than that cat must be very fast, but I’d never thought about how fast the cat really was. I imagined all the cats I’ve seen dash across yards and streets — they do move pretty quickly.
A couple of years ago, after I’d moved back home, I was having supper with my parents before choir practice. My father commented that Samuel had eaten very quickly — Samuel had moved faster than Charlie Moore’s cat, in fact. As I continued to eat, I asked my father about that famous cat… He suggested I ask someone at choir practice. “Oh, well,” I thought, “that’s the end of that.”
Toward the end of practice I *did* remember to ask about the cat… Mrs. Martha Lynn Knott began to laugh — heartily. I knew I was in trouble then… I don’t remember who actually explained the story — I suspect that Mr. Fisher Williams finally revealed the secret.
Charlie Moore was a resident of Dyer many years ago — before I was born (which wasn’t so long really, but I got the impression that Mr. Moore was an old man when some of the older members of our church were very young). The story, such as it is, is this:
Charlie Moore’s cat was so fast that he could apparently crap from the top of a light/telephone/telegraph pole (it differs with the telling), race to the ground, and dig a hole for the fecal matter to land in — before it reached the ground… That had to be one fast cat!