So a few days after Moose died, I took a trip to the local SPCA to see what there was to see. There was much to see. 300 cats to see. I played with cats until my nose ran and then I said, "How about this one? Murphy?" And he got into my lap when he heard his name. So Murphy it was.
Anyway, for those of you wondering how I am coping with my Mooseless state, here is the answer:
1. When surprised (by, say, a terrier named Ginger), he releases a tremendous stink that Google tells me is a vestigial response to fear having to do with the words "glands" and "anal." Use your imagination.
2. He sits on my head.
3. He likes to eat unattended breakfast cereal.
1. He is cuddly.