Murphy to go to the vet. Julia assumes death is coming...

Murphy has to go to the vet on Friday. She has a few problems. Rather than go into the details, let's just say that it may be that her diet isn't agreeing with her. I'll have to bring in a stool sample for the vet to check out. Yay for me! We're also going to get her checked out with some blood work to see if she's at risk for chronic kidney failure, which is what killed Moe. They were brother and sister, so it stands to reason that this may be genetic.

I'll be working that day, so Laura and Julia will have to take her in. Laura said that she told Julia that they were going to be taking Julia to the vet.

Julia smiled and asked without skipping a beat, "So she can go and die?"

Laura had been waiting for a response like that ever since we took Moe to the vet and didn't come home with him.

Laura told Julia, "No, she's not going to die! She's just a little sick, so the vet's going to check her out."

Julia thought for a second and asked with the same smile on her face, "And then she'll die?"

Laura laughed and said, "No! She's not going to die!"

Julia asked, "If she dies, can we get a kitty?"

"No! Julia, if Murphy dies, Daddy will be sad."

Maybe it's a little morbid that Julia is taking death to Murphy so loosely, but Murphy hasn't exactly been endearing herself to Julia. Julia will attempt to pet Murphy and Murphy will invariably take a swipe at her while protesting with an annoyed cat chirp.

Suzy and Boris, the two newest cats, let Julia do all sorts of things to them without protest. Even Moe, who I wrote about before, had no problem getting hassled by Julia. In his last week with us prior to getting sick, Julia could pick all twenty pounds of him up and hold him without any protest from Moe.

This isn't the first time that Julia has mentioned Murphy dying. Last year, she asked when we were going to get a new kitty.

I replied, "When one of the cats dies."

Julia though a minute and said, "Okay. I guess Murphy is going to have to die."

I was dumbfounded.

"Hey! That's my cat!"

I would worry, but I seem to recall me not being too shook up by a pet dying when I was kid. I remember my Mom telling Bill and I that she had to put our old dog, Tina, to sleep at the vet. I don't remember Tina much, but I remember her not liking Bill and I much. It's probably because we were young and prone to hassling her. She was old and probably not in the mood to be hassled.

I don't remember the response, but I'm sure it was along the lines of "Oh drag. Can we have some lunch?"