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)|
|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|
|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|
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.