The Last Cat

She’s the last one. Started with three, and now it’s just Koko—small, with these unusual, beautiful colors that don’t quite fit any standard cat palette. She’s become a complete cuddle junkie, always needing to be held, kneading at my chest while purring. Which makes it strange that her left eye is probably going to fail.

There’s medication that’s supposed to prevent it, but Koko’s not stupid. I slip the pills into her food and she finds them every time, leaves them on the plate. She knows what’s going on. The ointment doesn’t work. There aren’t any injections. It’s just a matter of luck now, and we both know how that story ends.

She doesn’t seem bothered by any of it though. Still shows up for her cuddles, still acts like nothing’s wrong. That’s the brave part.