MSI Press Blog

  Intrepid and Murjan, looking out the sliding door Ever wonder what your cat sees when she stares out the window or pounces on a dust mote? Feline vision is a marvel of adaptation—built for twilight hunting, not color theory. 🔹 Color, but not like us Cats aren’t stuck in black and white. They see muted shades of blue and green, but reds and pinks fade into grayish tones. Think of their world as a cool-toned watercolor—less vibrant, but rich in contrast. 🔹 Night vision ninjas Thanks to a high rod-to-cone ratio in their retinas, cats excel in low light. Their eyes gather ambient light like moonlight collectors, making them stealthy navigators at dawn and dusk. 🔹 Motion over detail Cats don’t see fine detail as sharply as humans, but they’re masters of detecting movement. A twitching tail or fluttering insect grabs their attention faster than a static toy. And then there’s Simone. Blind, but not broken. She maps her world through whiskers, scent, and memory. We’ve learned t...

  Today we remember the ones who walked beside us, slept near us, and loved us with a purity that only animals can offer. Their paws may no longer echo in our homes, but their spirits remain stitched into our lives. 🕊️ Murjan, our gentle warrior, defied lymphoma for 3.5 years—nearly reaching age 19. His quiet strength and enduring presence were a daily grace. 🕊️ Intrepid, his brave pal, was struck by the same cruel disease at the same time. He fought fiercely for three months before joining his beloved staff, Carl, in rest—both taken by cancer, both remembered for their boldness and joy. Intrepid left us at just 11, but his legacy of fun and fearlessness lives on. 🕊️ Snyezhka, radiant and resilient, battled four kinds of cancer before a sudden saddle thrombus took her in the night at age 7. Her absence was felt deeply by her devoted companion, Happy Cat, who searched for her daily until his own passing from a brain tumor a year later. 🕊️ And Bobolink—our long-haired black beaut...

  Some cats choose their humans. Some cats create them. Intrepid did both. He entered our lives in late 2005, a tiny tabby-mau kitten rescued from the grass outside a professor’s home in Jordan, where we were living and working at the time. Fearless from the start—hence his name—Intrepid ate like a creature possessed, sleeping curled beside the food bowl as if it might vanish. Once he realized food was a permanent fixture, he turned his attention to the rest of the house… and the laws of physics. Kamikaze leaps across the living room, potted plants as landing pads, chaos as his calling card. He was our smallest cat, but the bravest. He bonded instantly with Murjan , our alpha male, who mothered him with nightly snuggles. Murjan’s paws wrapped protectively around Intrepid in a feline embrace of pure love. I left Jordan to return to the States six months before Carl did. Murjan came with me. Intrepid stayed behind with Carl. And that’s when the real magic happened. Carl and Intr...