Gwen was our smartest cat and at one point the most athletic, as she enjoyed fetching a rubber frog that we would throw across the living room. She seemed to be listening to Gina and myself, making eye contact--and Gwen used more voicings to communicate out loud than the others did.
Until she tore her ACL (how's that for an athletic medical condition?) and became overweight, Gwen had the prettiest fur of all of them. At that point, she didn't like being combed beyond her head and neck--not for very long, anyway. Still, her small, black velvet paws looked like perfectly tailored mittens. And Gina sometimes called her Bombay--quite a coincidence because we didn't know at the time that Bombay cats are black in color and are said to make up their own games to play.
We were unaware of the extent of Gwen's pain until the x-rays showed a booming patch of cancer that pushed out and broke seven of her ribs. It seemed like a bad leg was the reason she wasn't walking well, and yet she barely whined about it. We are going to miss the strong and lovable Gwen, who liked to get on the couch with us once per night and watch television, especially at the end of her life. Those memories of companionship will continue to be precious for us.
That leaves us with just two cats celebrating their 18th birthday today, Merry (female) and Pippin (male), the twins who arrived later on March 16th after the others--Twyla and Gwen--were born to mom Guinnevere under the dresser in our bedroom in 2003.