We lost Sputnik today.
The cancer had spread everywhere and there was nothing further that could be done, other than approve an extra dose of isofluorane, and let her pass.
Although she had been spending most of her time lately sleeping in her leopard skin hat, last night she came downstairs and curled up on her old blanket on the chesterfield and watched a little tv with us. And later, the Spousal Unit brought her upstairs to Skype with the OFKAR. She even gave the webcam a few big face-rubs, just like old times.
And even though she stopped sleeping in my bed a few weeks ago, last night she came upstairs with me and watched me brush my teeth and then waited for me to fill the sink with a couple of inches of water, so that she could have a nice big drink of bathroom sink water, just like she used to do every night.
Yesterday she did not go outside at all, but this morning, she demanded it. Although we were due at the vet in a half hour, I wasn't particularly worried that she would take off for the entire morning like she used to. I'm glad she had that final chance to get out into the world as she always loved to do. It's a shame we didn't have her ratty old lounge chair out on the front deck for her to relax in. She was the poster cat for relaxing in a lounge chair.
Sputnik was one of the fiestiest, fiercest, smartest cats I have ever known. I still can't believe that I tried to talk the Offspring out of adopting that funny-looking little Tortoiseshell, the very last kitten that was available at the Humane Society, that winter day twelve years ago. Because she turned out to be the very best cat of all.