Murray In Trouble…Again
I don’t know what the fascination is with poop. Okay, I can sort of understand it, but why the smearing? Why not just throw it in one big lump and be done with it? Why mess up your hands like that when you know you’re going to get into trouble. In fact, why take it out of the cat box when if you just wait a little while, your own source will be replenished?

I just don’t understand him sometimes.

Murray, My Endless Love

I have found true love, and his name is Murray. We have so much fun together; it seems as though we were made for each other. Sometimes, we don’t even have to talk. We just know what the other one is thinking. And we have so much in common. We both like soup.

Introducing Murray!

People keep telling me that Murray is a stuffed animal, a monkey to be precise. I just don’t understand why they can’t see him the way I do: bright eyes staring intelligently at me, soft fuzzy fur, cute little hands. But no. Always the same line,"He’s a stuffed monkey, you idiot."

I can see their point to a certain degree. Murray does have some small behavioral problems. But really, who doesn’t have small little quirks? Aren’t they just that much more adorable with them?

You see, Murray likes to start fires. Not small wastebasket fires, oh no. He likes the raging, roaring, five-people-died-from-smoke-inhalation type fires. Luckily, I’ve managed to find him before he’s set a really big one. So far. I like to think he’s beginning to learn that it isn’t appropriate to do such things.

I will admit it is a little unnerving to wake up to find a monkey staring at you. All that silliness dissolves the second he wraps his soft little paws around your neck and hugs you. Murray gives the best hugs, but he doesn’t like to let go. Even in public. Which is weird for animals, because normally they’re very shy around humans they don’t know. Except Murray. He’s different.

I can’t take him to work anymore because of the fire problem. That makes me sad, because I really like having him there. He smiles at me and makes the day go by so much faster. If only he would stop lighting those damn fires. I’ve tried everything, from smacking him with rolled up newspaper to rubbing his nose in the ashes. Nothing. His little nimble fingers reach for the matches the second my back is turned. Cheeky monkey. He just so loves to play.