Audrey is gone

Audrey died this morning.

She was six.

I haven't written in a while, and it wasn't because Audrey was sick... that started just Thursday, and now here it is Monday, and she's gone. I've been distracted by a lot of things, but right in the middle of it, Thursday morning I got up and talked to Audrey on the windowsill by the bathroom, and knew immediately she was sick and needed to go in. Her breath was awful, she was drooling, her mouth was sore, and her nose was all nasty.

Thursday morning, she was up and around. Friday afternoon, she was weak, and still talking and alert with us. Saturday morning, she was better, according to the vet tech. By Sunday morning, she was much weaker and less responsive.

And this morning at 11:30, she died. It was kidney failure, like Tess and Mao, compounded by weakness from an upper respiratory virus. They also said she tested positive for feline leukemia, which had been negative in 2001 when she was spayed.

We brought her home, and she rests out next to Henry and Yellow and Boris and Tess and everyone else.

Minnie's rosebush had one perfect red rose on it, and that is now on Audrey's grave. She was a great kitten, and while she had a much longer life than she'd have had had Nancy and I not lured her into the car with promises of raspberry ice cream and smelly catfud back in September, 2001 over in the Jamesway parking lot in Charles Town, I think she had more in her. She finally gave up.

I'm sorry, Audrey. I should have paid more attention. I should have noticed things earlier. You just never seemed to complain. That's not your fault. It's mine. I let you down.

I will try not to do that with the other cats. I will try.

We will miss you. You were a good kitten, a very good kitten.

That's the highest praise one can give.