Murphy's law

©2012 Lydia Hinshaw

Murphy makes herself comfortable

 ORMOND BEACH, FL -- Murphy the cat was named for Murphy Brown, the sitcom journalist whose show was popular back in 1996, when we brought our new kitten home.
 The name turned out to be particularly appropriate.  Our Murphy grew up to be beautiful, smart and able to turn into a pit bull faster than I could get my hand out of the way.  We have the scars to prove it.
 The young ladies at the vet prepare for Murphy's appointments by donning padded mittens that reach to their elbows.  Her hysterical screeching makes us try to pretend we arrived with some other cat.
 Murphy is 16 now and no longer quite herself. We are grateful.
 Since she was about a year old, Murphy has refused all human contact except for brushing, and then only in approved spots.  No lap-sitting.  No obsequious rubbing against human ankles.  No response more enthusiastic than a yawn whenever one of us comes returns from some mission outside the house.
 And above all, no picking Murphy up!
 When we leave for the summer, we're always careful to warn our house-sitter about Murphy, and leave plenty of peroxide and alcohol around the house for pouring into punctured fingers or toes.
 But the house-sitters all thought we were nuts.  We heard stories about a cat we didn't know at all, one who was friendly and affectionate and sometimes even annoying in her demands for human attention.
 Since we came home in October, we've noticed a difference ourselves.  For the first time in 15  years, Murphy will now sit on the sofa with me, and very occasionally will actually lay her head on my leg.  She won't sit with the Prince, just me, but if he gets up from his recliner across the room, she will leave me to see where he is going.
 When we come home from somewhere, we can hear Murphy crying before we unlock the door and she seems glad to see us.  She wants to be near us when we eat, so that she can try to steal our food.
 Although she is elderly now, she is quite lively, still able to jump onto the counter with ease.   But her health is not great.  Once a strapping 17 pounder, she now probably weighs a quarter of that.
 She eats and drinks regularly, leads an active life and retains a normal cat's curiosity about anything going on around the house.
 Every so often, though, we see flashes of the old Murphy.  One day last week, when she was sitting next to me, I moved and disturbed her.
 She rewarded with a pair of puncture wounds, which fortunately healed quickly.