I am a huge cat person (if you didn’t already know).

I’ve had cats my entire life. In my 26 years, there were only 6 months where our home was catless.

In June 2010 we adopted Magic and Merlin, two black cats from the same litter. Merlin is very reserved while Magic was a party girl. She loved to be around the family, loved to run around and enjoy some catnip. In November 2014, Magic was brought to the animal hospital due to some odd behavior that the vet attributed to a change in diet (which she didn’t have) or a side effect to the catnip that she had enjoyed the night before. She came home that day and was a little lethargic but we just assumed it was from the car ride and being taken to the vet, which was never fun for her. That was a Saturday. On Monday (my day off at that time) Magic was on my bed with Johnny and I and went to jump off, but collapsed off of the side of my bed onto my area rug, and was not moving. Her back legs were cold and I immediately went into panic mode. I called my mom at work to let her know what had happened and that I was going to take her back to the vet, but she insisted that I take her to the emergency animal hospital instead, as they are obviously better equipped to handle her case.

Johnny and I get to the vet and the tech that brought us in just said “oh that’s not good” when Magic couldn’t support her weight and just went limp on the table. They listened to her heart, lungs, etc. and determined that she had some type of fluid in her abdomen. Maybe she had a punctured bladder, but it was entirely possible that she had internal bleeding. They put her in an oxygen chamber and told us that we’d need to take her to the 24 hour animal hospital a town or two over to have an ultrasound and truly diagnose her.

At this point, Johnny left to go back to his house and my parents took Magic while I went to pick Cecelia up from her dad’s house. We all met at the 24 hour hospital and Magic was given the ultrasound. They found that she had spontaneous internal bleeding and could do an investigative surgery to try to find where the blood is coming from and fix it, but there was a very good chance that she could die on the table. They kept her overnight to monitor her and we all went home.

The next morning (Veteran’s Day, so thankfully we all had the day off), we get a call from the hospital saying that they can start the surgery, but it will be very costly and again, she could end up dying on the table. We made the impossible decision to go and pick Magic up and bring her home to be put down. My mom, Cecelia, and I drove to the animal hospital and picked Magic up. The tech we met with mentioned that she may not even live to the time when our vet could get to the house to put her down. We stopped by Johnny’s work so that he could say goodbye to her then continued on home where I sat with her on the couch until she eventually passed on her own, surrounded by my mom, myself, Cecelia, my dad, and her brother Merlin.

No one has any explanation as to how Magic was injured or why she started to bleed internally, but she was 100% an indoor cat, never fell off of anything, never got into a bad fight with Merlin. It was just a very unfortunate circumstance.

For the next few months Merlin was our only cat. Since he is sort of a recluse, he seemed OK for the most part, but my mom and I were pretty sure that he was lonely and missed his sister. We started to look around for a kitten to adopt, and after a few failed attempts, we decided to relax and just figured when the time was right we would find the perfect kitten for our Merlin.

Flash forward now to April 27, 2015. Johnny and I walk into the local pet shop to pick up some crickets for Peter Parker, my tarantula, and there is one lonely, crying black kitten in the window. It turned out that his sister had been adopted without him and he was left as the last kitten, who had given himself the raspiest little meow from crying and crying.

The girl at the shop asked if I wanted to hold him, and of course I did. I sent his picture to my mom at work, and she agreed that as long as he was healthy, he was a perfect fit. Johnny and I left the shop to pick Cecelia up from school and then drove right back and brought our new baby home. We decided to name him Onyx. In my mind, it was after the stone. In Johnny’s mind, it was after the Pokemon.


This little guy has brought to much joy to all of our lives over the last two years. He is an absolute angel, loves to snuggle, purrs like a jet engine, and is always excited to see me when I come home. Merlin even likes him… sometimes.


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