Saturday, July 23, 2011


Well, our family got some sad news yesterday. My sister's cat Morgan passed away. She was 16. She needed that extra help from the vet, actually. She wasn't in pain, thank goodness. Her past 24 hours she was so lethargic (their other cat Arthur sat with her all day). It was time. She lived a long life, right there with my sister and her husband. She oversaw the arrival of their two sons, would sit outside the closed bedroom door as the newborn slept. She never liked the rest of us - hissed, mostly - her way of encouraging us to find other accommodations, I suppose. But the times that I spent with my sis right after she gave birth (in 2007 and 2010) gave me great appreciation for the soul that was Morgan. She loved those boys, and seemed to watch over them, right from birth. And at quiet times amidst all the chaos that comes with a new baby, she would find my sis and cuddle up in her lap (when that lap wasn't otherwise occupied). We have great Morgan stories - like how she gained some weight, then lost it when my brother-in-law came up with the idea of putting her food in the basement. She wanted to eat more than she wanted to not-exercise. Or how she got out once, and all my brother-in-law had to do was say, "treats!" and she was right back in the house. (hmm, these stories revolve around food...) But my most immediate, and fond, memory of Morgan is watching her these past years, watching over her small but growing family and loving them. RIP kitty. We will miss you.

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