Fergus Jackson MacPhee

I woke up this morning to the strangest, saddest cat cry I had ever heard.  The cats that were in bed with me all went on high alert and we jumped up to find out who had made that mournful wail.

It was Fergus.  I saw him taking his last breaths and ran upstairs and got the kids.  Fergus was not sick, nor was there any reason to think he was going to die.  He was just a month past his sixth birthday.

I was looking for his kitten photos on the computer today and for some reason I can't find them.  I only found some from the last couple of years.

Fergus had the softest, most plushy fur I have ever felt on a kitty, like a sheared beaver coat.  He was a joy to pet and run your fingers through his hair.  He would, about once a year or so, get a little spot on his back that would mat up like a little kitty dreadlock.  We have no idea why.

His eyes were like pools of jade.  Not that clear emerald green that some cats have, but like a gorgeous piece of jade.  You can see that a little bit in that last picture.

Fergus was the only one of our cats who liked to lay out on his belly with his back legs straight out behind him.  Splayed out with his belly in full contact with the cool floor.  His breathy purring and really loud, whiney sounding meow are going to be missed around here.

Fergus Jackson MacPhee

July 30, 2026 - Sept. 17, 2012

R.I.P.