She was my faithful companion for close to 15 years. The longest significant relationship I’ve ever had outside of my family. Today I had to put her to sleep. She had bone cancer. Aggressive bone cancer. Last month when I took her in and learned she had hyperthyroidism they also took x-rays of her leg because she was limping. Then there was only a small amount of swelling. It could have been a sprained ligament. It wasn’t possible to tell. Today, when I took her in the vet could feel hard masses up and down her left hind leg. She was unable to tolerate any touch to her paw.

Cinnamon was not your typical rescue cat. I didn’t rescue her. She chose me. I was working one Saturday morning back in 2003 at Cochran Center when I heard this forlorn yowling. It was a beautiful, sunny summer day, with blue skies and just a hint of a breeze. I was finishing up some progress reports when I first heard it, off in the distance. Over time it became louder and more insistent.

My office was on the second floor in the stairwell of the building. So I made my way downstairs to investigate, stepping out the door. I didn’t even get my foot down to the front step, and she jumped on it. I was smitten.

“How cute.” I thought to myself, reaching down to pet her. My hand hadn’t even gotten below my knee when she jumped up into it. I was surprised and went to lift her up to pet her. Again, I don’t think I managed to get her much past my waist when she lunged right up onto my shoulder and started rubbing against my chin. I was now way past smitten.

She was a dark, reddish brown color. There was a patch right below her neck running along her spine for a few inches that was the color of cinnamon. Hence the name. She was with me from then on except for a six month period when I was staying with my sister in Grantsburg while I saved up money for a place of my own.

I’ve finished crying for the moment. No doubt I’ll have more tears as the day and the weekend progresses. I will miss her. And I will never forget her.