We lost her yesterday. She was a good cat. She was a very good cat. She was 14 years and 7 months old, and lived with us for 12 years and 6 months. She only had one working kidney for 9 years and 7 months out of that 14+ years. She lasted longer than anyone thought she would when she was in kidney failure in 2008.
She's chased mice (and left dead mice for me multiple times. Once I thought it was a toy and thought didn't think we had toy mice that size, only it wasn't a toy.), watched birds outside windows, batted at fish in a tank, slept in cabinets and bookshelves and cardboard boxes and on top of every tall place in the house. She's lounged in sunbeams on a summer's day and curled up in front a fireplace and a wood stove on a winter's night.
She slept on my pillow every night, even when I tried to chase her off. She also snuggled under my blanket, even though that meant waking me up 3 or 4 times a night.
She had the sweetest (and sometimes most annoying) meow.
She purred. A lot. A little rumbling motor.
She also had 5 medical crisis, one every 12-36 months since May of 2008, and we stopped counting the vet bills she racked up. I think it's in the low 5 digits at this point. And it was worth it, every penny.
She was everything a cat should be, and we love her very very much.
She was very sick at the end. It was a fast decline, in the span of a week. It was clear it was the end, so we took her to the vet yesterday to give her an easy trip out.
I miss her a whole lot right now. There's a Cailynn-shaped hole in my life and my daily routine. We haven't stopped crying yet, and I don't think we will for a little while.
Bye Caily-cat. See you next life.





















































