Today is a special day and I only just realized it halfway through writing this post. It’s special because we adopted Murray one year ago today. I know this because tomorrow marks the anniversary of when I announced it on mihow.com.
I haven’t ever admitted this before, but I kind of feel sorry for Murray. Sometimes he has to deal with an annoying amount of affection. You see, every time I get word of someone doing something horrific to an animal, or whenever I witness an animal in distress, I dig him out and hug him. Sometimes I hug him so tightly and for so long he very nearly passes out. (Only, not really). I fool myself into thinking that Murray is powerful, powerful enough to transfer all the affection we give him on to more needy creatures. I imagine that somehow, through powers unbeknownst to me, he’s able to pass love around—the almighty Murray, my creature extraordinaire.
I realize this borders on absurd, but love knows no logic.
Murray fetches. Did I ever tell you that? He fetches. I know that many cats fetch. For example, my cat, Pookum fetches tampons, but Murray will fetch until you give up. He doesn’t get distracted. It’s just him, you and whatever balled up piece of trash you can find. In fact, I have no idea how long he’ll fetch before giving up because I’m the one who always ends the game. He’s sporty. If there were a fetching league for cats, I’d let him enroll.
On Saturday, we watched the egotistical Kentucky Derby prematurely ejaculate all over our TV screen. The event deemed “The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sports!” made my heart stop for almost that long.
I used to love horses. I still like horses but when I was a kid, I loved them. I wish I could express to you just how much I loved them. Only my mother could do that. Like most little girls, I begged my parents for a horse. I even prayed for one. I once asked my mother that if one should wander into our backyard, could I then keep it? She said yes. And so I waited for that miracle. I’m still waiting.
But I digress.
Whenever Eight Belles fell to the ground, my childhood emotions bubbled up like vomit and sucker punched me right in the gut. I simply could not control myself. My hands covered my face and I began crying.
Tears fell into my soup and onto my salad and Emory looked over wondering where my smile had gone. I wanted to tell him that sometimes people do horrible things to animals for “fun”, but that overall we’re pretty good! I wanted to reassure him that we named him after Saint Francis, the patron saint of animals, and that his best friend right now is a cat.
“Turn this off!” I yelled, covering my eyes. “Turn it off! I can’t watch any more!”
Toby grabbed a hold of the remote control and turned the channel.
“Now, say something to make me forget.” I cried.
“Look at this.” He said. Murray had his belly up and his legs spread wide, a position he has grown very fond of lately.
Needless to say, I cracked up. And then I Pepe Lepewed my cat until he wriggled free. Unfortunately, eight thousand hugs and kisses couldn’t save Eight Bells.
So, in honor of sporty animals everywhere, I shot a video of Murray playing fetch. The director’s cut is over 4 minutes long but I shortened it because it’s just a video of him and me and a balled up napkin. Pretty boring, right?
But after you watch the video I think that you’ll agree that the title “The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sports” no longer belongs to the Kentucky Derby. It belongs to Murray—the almighty Murray, my creature extraordinaire.
Now, run along and smooch on some animals.