RIP. He's better known for his works about people and sex, but I know him from his book "Catwatching", which is a very thoughtful observational study of cats.
My family had cats when I was young and I walked the neighbor's dog too. I fondly remember reading the translated versions of Catwatching and Dogwatching in the early 90s.
Little tidbit that isn't mentioned in the article: he was a consultant on the film Quest for Fire and developed movement patterns and gestures for the actors.
A note for younger readers. This was from a time when there was maybe only one screen in the house and whole families would gather round it and watch shows together.
His anthropological views raised more questions than answers, challenging us to ponder just how far modern humankind had progressed from our days of living in caves and hovels, dressed rudimentally in animal hair. His conclusions could be arbitrary, but nevertheless provocative.
Morris' autobiography "Animal Days" (1979) is a very charming account of his early life and career, in case someone wishes to take this occasion to read more about that than appears in the obituary.
Indeed. Conscript squaddies were representative of the population, that's how conscription worked. Except for being all men, of course. It's no more silly to expect them to be interested in art, than to expect schoolchildren to be.