Merlin Ambrosius Magic Lewis
Bruiser, bouncer, terror of the Diner ....
Merlin and Qetzl were part of Tupello's litter, brother and sister, with two more brothers. Our Kitchen Heroine had just moved into Larger Quarters (on Barbee Chapel) and felt that she could support more than the grand old gentleman of the diner, Hupfer. So she went and visited the litter, and the sexy-goth black kitty came to sleep on her lap, and so went home with her.
Like Hupfer, Merlin was a tiny creature ... who grew into a real bruiser. His most astonishing accomplishment: he could identify, without failure, axe murderers approaching. In his entire life, no axe murderer ever so much as came down the driveway before Merlin identified the threat and issued a warning. There were, perhaps, a few false positives in that time ....
Merlin never quite adjusted to Qetzl's disappearance (her death, in other words, but cats don't much like mentioning the D-word, unless it's "dinner"). When Angel joined the Management, Merlin never even worked up the energy to terrorize him properly.
On 2 May 2010, he started showing severe lethargy, similar to Qetzl's (disregarded) presentation. Our Paranoid Heroine looked for a recovery, and not seeing one by Monday afternoon, scheduled them in to the vet on Tuesday morning, 4 May. The vet sent him back home with Our Relieved Cat-tender, with some sub-cute fluids. Bloodwork reports came in on 5 May; a kidney infection (but not failure?), high blood sugar; antibiotics were provided. He got one pill, and his fourth subcutaneous fluid drip, on the afternoon of 5 May 2010. He developed difficulty breathing shortly thereafter, and died in Our Disbelieving Heroine's arms around seven in the evening, while she was on the phone to the emergency vet.
He's buried beneath a dogwood, across the drive from his sister; like hers, his tree wears his collar and bears his name, and his substance feeds it and makes some sort of point about the whole circle of life thing.
Everybody always leaves. What the fuck's up with that?