She passed last night.
We're disappointed that we didn't get a moment with her before she left, but she was already beginning to fade when we brought her to the vet, so perhaps it was for the best she went when she did rather than suffer waiting for visiting hours to open.
We only had her for a few months, and she was sick for most of them due to contracting FIV at birth from her mother. But the couple of months where she was in robust health were like night and day.
It's funny: her previous owner, who wasn't aware she was born immunocompromised (PSA: checks for FIV aren't always standard, so get your cat screened for it next time they get a checkup), gave her to us saying she was "sweet and chill and loved to just sit on your lap". Turns out she was really just feeling sick. When she recovered, she was still be sweet, but the opposite of chill. She was rambunctious, playful, energetic, and curious. She loved to post up and stare at anything and everything, so much so that her nickname was "kwago" (owl).
Vestibular disease kept her from jumping much, but she could climb like no one's business. And she was so desperate to get out into the yard that folks leaving for work had to check the corners and halls before opening the front door, lest they see a little black streak bolt between their legs and into the garden.
Sleep well, baby cat. We'll miss you.
