MSI Press Blog

  Moo yucking Because we found some unwanted guests emanating from Tiger (worms, probably pre-installed before he moved here from an insect-infested apartment), the whole feline crew got a dose of deworming. Moo, our lanky teenage optimist, was thrilled —a new experience! He even opened his mouth like a baby bird, ready for the mystery morsel. I dropped in the pill. And then… betrayal. His eyes widened in cinematic disbelief. Was this poison? With operatic flair, he launched the pill halfway across the room, then began a dramatic tongue routine—rapid in-out flicks, punctuated by a chorus of “yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck…” that lasted a full minute. The only meow he ever uses came next—a high-pitched squeal of accusation. Then, with the dignity of a wronged prince, he turned his back, leapt off the counter, and vanished into the bedroom. Guess we’re shopping for the liquid version. For more posts about Moo (the un-cat), click HERE . Learn more about cats. See our many  Caturda...

  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...