After her diagnosis, we kept a close eye on her, gave her topical pain meds every few hours, and tried to determine when we were no longer able to keep her comfortable. That day turned out to be last Thursday.
Momo was our lovey cat. She loved everyone except Pru. She was soft like satin, all black with a little white patch on her tummy you were not allowed to touch. She loved lying in sunbeams, and when she did, she looked like she was made of dark chocolate. She was very generous with kisses.
She was not a slim cat. Somehow she managed to give the impression of fat cheeks. The vet called her a “round breed.” But watching her walk away, one got the impression of a watermelon with toothpick legs. And a plum sized head. She had tiny paws on the end of stick legs, and an amazing ability to know just where your most tender parts where. All the better to bruise them with her “sticks.”
Wil called her The Annoy-a-tron 5000. I’m pretty sure Momo referred to him in the same manner. Privately. Publicly she called him Poppi. ( That started about the time I moved in, coincidentally. She called me The Lady. ) He was never more appealing than when he was playing video games. She just had to kiss his face and his hands and crawl in his lap. She was never more appealing to him than when she was minding her own business, or trying to get away from him. They slept together, they watched tv together, they were best friends.
I will miss my baby Momo. My snuggly kissy cat.