In August of 1999, I had just graduated college and started my first job. I was on my own for the first time, and feeling a little lonely. So I went to a pet store to adopt a calico kitten. They had one for sale - and it bit me.
I knew that wasn't the cat for me, and although I'd had my heart set on a calico just like the one I'd had growing up, I moved on to the next cage, where I saw a grey and white kitten, about 6 months old - a little older then I was looking for. Still, I picked her up and held her in my arms. She touched my chin with her little white paw. And that's how I met Mazzy.
Those first few months, it was just me and Mazzy. She slept in my arms every night, and loved having me all to herself. But about six months later, I found a calico kitten to bring home.
Mazzy was not pleased.
Months passed, and I was worried these two cats would never get along, despite Callie's many attempts to win over Mazzy's affection.
Then, one day, I came home and saw this:
From that point on, Mazzy and Callie were the best of friends. Seeing them cuddling together always cheered me up.
Those cats were with me through six moves in three states, tolerated two cross-country road trips, and eventually learned to put up with the addition of a dog.
In 2007, Callie died suddenly of kidney failure. Mazzy was never the same after that. I don't know if it was the loss of Callie, the stress of our adopting a new cat she never learned to like, or just bad luck, but soon after Callie's death Mazzy developed inflamed bowel disease. IBD can't be cured, and I pity the cats, cat owners, and cat owners' belongings (oh, and wallets) who have to live with it. We had to pill Mazzy twice every day for the rest of her life and take her in to the vet a few times a year for treatment. We had to put her (and poor Cleo) on a diet of bland prescription cat food and stop giving her night time treats, something she and Callie always loved.
Finally, about a month ago, I noticed Mazzy seemed to have lost more weight than usual and looked dehydrated. I took her in to the vet to be examined. Blood tests showed that her white blood cells were highly elevated, indicating she had cancer. It is common for cats with IBD to develop cancer, so I wasn't surprised. The doctor said she wouldn't respond to any kind of treatment, so all we could do was make her comfortable.
For the past few weeks we stopped forcing her to take her daily pills, added night time treats back into her routine, and showed her lots of love. She purred a lot and didn't seem to be uncomfortable at all - just really tired.
Mazzy died peacefully in her sleep sometime during the night of June 24 - coincidentally, my father's birthday. She never seemed to be in pain, never lost her appetite or ability to walk. She was happy right up until the end.
We plan to bury her remains right next to Callie, so they can cuddle together forever.
