Monday night was no fun. We lost our buddy Murphy. He died on Inauguration Night, shortly after his fourth birthday. He was born shortly after Obama's first election and left us a few hours after the second inauguration. Coincidental I'm sure.
While we have no idea why he died, my best guess is cardiomyopathy. I had no idea that cats could contract heart disease until about three years ago. Murphy was diagnosed with a heart murmur by one veterinarian, with a great heart by a second, and as "well, I can hear it when he gets excited" by a third. Given his age and the fact that he showed no signs of illness, HCM seems to fit.
He taught us a few important things, including...
Be particular. Murphy loved dairy products, but not just any dairy products. Milk had to be fresh and cheese had to be stinky (in a blue cheese kind of way). As Murphy would have said, honestly, why should anyone eat processed cheese food?
Notice and investigate everything. Murphy could find anything new that was brought into our house; I always enjoyed watching him (carefully) approach new things.
There are more examples of lessons taught by our cat, I'm sure. It has been an exhausting couple of days, and while I would like to go on, I can't seem to assemble my thoughts in logical order. More about our new, quieter life soon.
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