Don't be fooled. Inside this thin coating of sweetness is a fiery core of total insanity.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Saying Good-Bye to Magellan

It's so hard to say good-bye to a beloved pet. I had to do that on Tuesday night -- say good-bye to my beloved kitty Magellan. We lost our other cat Lightning 2 years ago, right about this same time of year, so we're now a catless house. We got both of them at the same time, as kittens from a shelter in Massachusetts, and for a while when they were small, they were inseparable. Although they didn't come from the same litter, they had similar coloring, and we always thought of them as sisters. We renamed Lightning when we brought her home, but the shelter had given Magellan her unusual name, and we decided to keep it, despite it being the name of a male explorer. 

When she was young, Magellan was the absolute stereotype of a cat -- somewhat aloof and mysterious. As she got older, after we lost Lightning, she became much more affectionate, always jumping into our laps as soon as we sat down on the couch. She would sometimes come upstairs to where I was playing on the computer, and in a bid for attention, she would sit right on the mouse pad, on top of the mouse, to keep me from using it. We didn't allow the cats into the bedroom, but every morning she would wait outside the bedroom door to greet us when we emerged. In the last few weeks of her life, she had stopped coming upstairs -- I assume, because they were just too hard to negotiate.

Magellan as a kitten (right) snuggled up with Lightning (left)

Kitten, kitten!

Getting older. She loved sitting on those dining chairs

Laser eyes on our bed

Magellan and Lightning (who passed away two years ago) exploring the fenced back yard of our rental house in Seattle

Sitting on top of the fridge in our old house back in Massachusetts

So cute

Am I not the most beautiful creature in the world?


Sleeping on my bathrobe

And on my gardening hat

Begging at the kitchen table

Waiting for Nigel to drop some food

Looking for a taste of my smoked salmon

Sitting in a window -- note the cat hair on the plant

Enjoying the warmth of a wood stove

She liked going outside occasionally, but for the most part, she was an indoor cat. We never let her out without supervision, and she never left the confines of our fenced back garden.I don't know if it's obvious in the photos of her, but she had extra digits on her paws, with fluffy tufts of hair between them.

Exploring the small outdoors

It's a jungle out here!

On the covered back porch, right beside the back door

On her way to greet me

Sitting in my lap

About a month ago, she was diagnosed with diabetes, but despite me giving her daily insulin, she continued to decline and never fully recovered. She spent a few days in the hospital while they stabilized her blood sugar. But after that she still suffered with dehydration and loss of appetite. I thought for a while she was on the mend, eating well and staying active. But she declined very suddenly on Tuesday, lost her coordination (I thought it was low blood sugar, but it wasn't). She couldn't stand or walk. I brought her to the vet's, and she survived the night, but just barely. On Wednesday morning I made the difficult, heart-wrenching decision not to prolong her suffering any more.

A few weeks ago, when she came home from the vet hospital after they had managed to stabilize her blood sugar

Just a couple of weeks ago -- once again, on a dining chair

Good-bye, Sweetie

She was such a loving, trusting companion. I feel like I failed her. Right now, the house is still full of reminders of her. Every time I sit down, I expect her to jump in my lap. I keep looking for her in her favorite chair.

I'm going to miss her. So. Much.