Today was Frida’s last day. Just a month after we left for Berlin, the poor purring kitty turned out to have kidney failure. Corii stabilized her for a few months, but she took a turn for the worse a few days ago. Today a needle slipped into her veins, and she shivered with a final little sneeze, and she was gone.
I remember when we brought her home, she and her runtling sister Soomu, Frida was the wide-eyed brave one, coming out of the box to explore our apartment, while timid sister stayed behind. She was always the gentle one, purring even when she was nervous, licking an arm or a wrist, getting picked on by her mercurial sister. She ate like a racoon, using her white paws to pull a bit of kibble from her bowl, dipping it into her water bowl as though it needed washing. She developed a habit of jumping into the shower as soon as we were finished; it seemed just another quirk, but turns out probably to have been a symptom of progressive kidney failure.
Godspeed to whatever kittyplace you go, O fuzzy one.