Rest in Peace, Rocky Murray

Rocky was a great cat. Perhaps, the best one I've ever owned. He was sadly put to sleep over medical issues on Wednesday, January 20, 2021. He had lived with his same family since July of 2005. Here is his story as told by my mother, Amber R. Hopkins.

In July of 2005, I received a phone call from my husband, who was at Petsmart picking up food for our two cats. He informed me that there was an adoption event going on and a huge litter of kittens were up for grabs. Half of them appeared to be silver tiger striped, which had always been a favorite of mine. I arrived at the store and immediately spotted a scruffy, brown runt at the bottom of the pile of kittens. I had to have him. It made no sense, but as a first-time pregnant mom, no one was going to argue with me.

Twenty-four hours later, I was lying in bed blubbering at the suggestion that maybe we should give the kitten, now named Rocky, back. After all, our lease only permitted 2 cats living in our 900 sq. ft. apartment and we had a baby coming. After spending the rest of the night sleeping with baby Rocky on the floor of the soon-to-be-nursery, I called the apartment complex’s management office and inquired about the possibility of a third cat. The manager, luckily, was a cat person herself and also kept three cats in her apartment. The kitten could stay.

Rocky spent the next several months desperate for the approval of his new housemate, Nemo. Nemo was a huge, mean, neurotic seal point Siamese who had no interest in sharing his home with a pesky kitten, but Rocky was persistent. He would wait until Nemo had fallen asleep in his oversized dog bed and then sneak in and curl up with him, undetected. When Nemo awoke, he would hiss, growl, and run away, disgusted. Until one day, he didn’t. The two remained cuddle buddies and playmates for the remainder of Nemo’s life. Shelby, the only female in the mix, was constantly bullied once the boys ganged up together, and had to be rehomed.

When Adrian was born, Rocky was his immediate companion. He had to be locked out of the bedroom until the baby was big enough to not be smothered by him because he was constantly jumping into the bassinet, swing, and crib. If it was time to lay out a blanket for tummy time, Rocky was there. When Adrian was playing in his pack-n-play, Rocky would jump on in too. At night, he would wriggle his way under the blankets and sleep with his head under my face.

The passing of Nemo was a devastating blow to Rocky. He wandered the house at night, crying. The only feasible answer was getting him a new partner in crime. I took a look at the local Humane Society’s website, and there she was; a gorgeous long-haired tuxedo named Moxie. We brought her home, renamed her Roxie, and the rest is history. Rocky and Roxie immediately picked up where he and Nemo had left off.

Later in his life, Rocky would find himself an essential part of an evolving bachelor pad with a teenage Adrian still by his side. He would go on to accept a new companion in Dexter and live out the remainder of his days as one third of a well-loved feline trio. His life was as long and memorable as the 15-year old scar he left on my arm the day he was startled by a sudden sneezing fit. The remaining duo will have quite the pawprints to fill in his absence as he moves into his final rest.