Tag kitties

Amongst all the other breaking news items of the last several days, I completely forgot to mention that Friday, April 29th, was Furry Murray’s first birthday. Charlotte took this picture of Fuwwy Muwwy and Daddy cuddling in the Comfy Chair to commemorate the occasion.

Now that spring is here, and Stephen Harper is busy in Canada with his evils plans, Murray finally got his wish and has been going outside for the past six weeks or so. He had been lobbying for it pretty hard all through the long, snowy winter, even when Harry was saying “fuck that” to going out. Harry started going back outside even before the ground was completely bare — poor old kitty had a tough winter going stir-crazy in the house — but I resisted Murray’s entreaties until there was no more snow. On the couple of occasions when a little early spring snowfall coated the yard, he discovered exactly why he had to wait. Ditto for going out in the rain. Harry has never minded being out in the rain, but Murray quickly discovered that discretion was the better part of valor.

Like Harry, Murray doesn’t go too far from the back yard, and when we call him he comes running at a full gallop, so I am not concerned that he’ll run off or get himself into a sticky situation other than the inevitable run-ins with the big black-and-white kitty who lives in the house behind us. Unlike Harry, who has never been a very good jumper, Murray loves to get up onto the little roof over the cellar door, and I imagine at some point he might decide to climb a tree. With his enormous bushy tail, Murray looks an awful lot like a squirrel.

I had hoped to shoot a little video for you of Murray scampering about outdoors, but so far he hasn’t cooperated. I’ll keep trying.

The best part is that even though he is all grown up, Murray is still my cuddle-buddy. As you can see in the picture, he still gets right up on top of my chest and snuggles right in just like he did when he was tiny. He’s not a very big cat, and I don’t know if he’ll bulk up as he really moves into his adult form — all that fluff hides a slight beastie. Unbeknownst to Murray, his next big adventure is going to be a visit to the cat groomer; he’s not crazy about being brushed and has developed matted fur in some places that are difficult to get to because of his resistance to the brush. Push is going to come to shove, though, and I’ll be more than glad to let a professional do the dirty work.

Meanwhile, I’m keeping a careful lookout for any hungry Canadian politicians.

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