Mandy died this morning, quietly at home in my arms. As you may
remember, she became acutely ill a couple of months ago; the vet's test
results were 'inconclusive', and I decided to simply let nature take its
course. To my astonishment (I'd actually dug her a grave!) she rallied
quite a bit. She lost most if not all of her sight and hearing, so I
kept her in one room for her own safety, but she began eating and
drinking again, using the litter box, and (as one might expect of an
elderly cat) spending most of her time sleeping. She disliked being
startled, but would (if in the right
mood) tolerate petting and having her fur combed. She didn't much like
young Sam, who occasionally startled her, but I watched one evening with
astonishment when he approached her. She didn't move, but growled a
little. Sam stopped, backed away very cautiously, and decided that this
would be a good time to leave the room, would I open the door please?
The old girl still had some of her imperial spirit!

When I got home last night, I was sure she'd had a seizure. She's had
them on and off since her illness; not really recently, but I knew the
signs.
She'd lost bladder control and was lying lethargically on the floor
panting. I held her until her breathing settled and lay her on her bed.
Unlike after earlier seizures, she didn't get up and head purposefully
toward the food and water once the panting and lethargy wore off, but
lay quietly. She was still alive this morning, but just after I picked
her up to see how she was and if she needed any cleaning, she relaxed
and I realized she had stopped breathing.

This is different from poor Betsy's death, just over a year ago. I'd had
to have Betsy euthanized as her cancer was making it painful for her to
eat. Mandy's last illness was more of a long, slow decline after the
initial onset. But I miss both my girls - I adopted them only a few
months apart; Mandy as a little ball of fluff who could sit on one hand,
and Betsy as a nearly adult kitten. And now they're both gone.