My cat died this morning

My wonderful cat Murphy died this morning. He was 15 1/2 years old and a funny, playful cat - more like a dog then a cat. He came running when you called him and ate pizza and pasta (never poured him a glass of red wine though!). We had to put our dog to sleep about five years ago so I know the emotional tug you feel when you have to let go. We knew the end was near this week - he had stopped eating, and then stopped drinking water. Still, finding him on the floor this morning, turned on his side and looking out the window, was still a jolt.

We carefully wrapped him up in his favorite blanket, placed a catnip toy in the box with him and buried him in our backyard (probably illegally - but I am sure there are many other critters buried around my town).

To keep busy, I made a big pot of pasta sauce and meatballs - mixing, rolling, frying, dicing, kept me occupied for awhile. Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw something move and I assumed it was Murphy begging for a scrap (don't let his Irish name fool you - he loved his Italian food!). I turned around and then it really hit me - no more sweet little meow's and purring in this house. Then the tears came again and I let them.

We all know the deal when you get a pet - sooner or later the time will come to say goodbye. It still hurts though. My husband said "no more pets - it's either me or them."

Tempting!

Thanks Murphy for your great companionship these last fifteen years. I hope you are chasing birds - but not eating them - and have a warm fire to curl up in front of and a big bowl of tuna to eat. You deserve it!