I had to have Arletty euthanized this week; her medications were no longer controlling the discomfort from a lesion in her bladder.
Arletty was about 18, as far as I know. I found her when she was about a year old, and hugely pregnant with 4 kittens. I kept her and her one male kitten, who died when he was about 10, from probably the same thing that did in his mother.
She was tiny, but ruled with an iron paw; a dominant female who would stare down the biggest of my male cats. They might presume to push past her on the stairs once, but a supersonic paw across the snout made sure it never happened again.
Her favourite companion, once her son died, has been Jester, the nineteen year old cat (the Dude abides; he’s outlived so many younger cats). And he is missing her, these last few days; he’s much clingier with me.
As often happens, she required a lot of care over the last little while, so I’m having to get over the habit of jumping up, whenever she told me she needed something.
Even though I have *cough* other cats *cough*, the house seems much emptier; a tiny lady, with a big personality.