We had to say goodbye to Santana on Sunday evening. Dollar brought dinner up to Santana's room and she had a very large stroke that paralyzed her body. Her first big stroke was March 2019 and while she recovered to be almost 100%, we knew her time with us was going to be limited. We are thankful that she stayed with us an extra year to give us more love and kisses and nuzzles and attitude.
This is the last photo I took of her, from April 2.
My after-work routine was to go into her room and get into bed to work on a NYT Crossword puzzle on my iPad. She would climb on top of me and purr while I filled out clues. I miss that so much now.
This is the earliest photo I have of her, from 2011:
She was the neighbor's cat (as was Murderface) but started coming around for reliable food and shelter. She'd be left out all winter long- I'd hear her crying at their door across the street. They would open up a can of wet food and just put the can outside for her. You can see she's so dirty in the picture- her white toes are gray and you can barely see the white streak on her nose.
I just remember saying, "When we move, we're taking her and Murderface." We kept the name Santana (which is what the neighbors called her- it just stuck) but she was Santana Banana or Nanny Bananny to us.
We moved to a brand new house and gave her her own room:
We realized now that she must have thought it was a dream. Taken off the street and brought to a new house where she had her own safe space and food in real dishes and treats and unconditional patience and love. Okay, maybe she's tried our patience. Those early days featured lots scratched faces and hands.
She got toys:
But then we brought home Penny:
She never got along with the other cats but sometimes I'd catch a rare picture of the three of them together:
I like seeing old pictures of how chonky she got:
She helped me with all the quilts I've made:
And some of my knitting projects:
I'll miss my sleeping buddy. She got into the habit of sleeping right next to my pillow:
It was easy to turn my head and give her pets/kisses in the middle of the night. She'd start purring and I'd close my eyes and go back to sleep. She really got to trust us that we'd never hurt her and I'm so thankful all the scratching and hissing stopped. Sometimes she'd get grumpy and hit us, but she stopped using nails.
I'm sorry she won't have one more summer of sleeping in a open window, so warm in the sun:
We miss her greatly: