Jump to:
Gentle panther. Eternal Star. Forever Loved.
Love in Loss
I’ve been moving through a season of grief since late January, when I lost two beings who meant a lot to me: my compassionate Uncle Ian, a retired veterinarian and lifelong role model, and Orion, a gentle office cat who came into my life at a time I needed him most. Their passing has left a quiet weight in my heart, and I’m learning to sit with emotions I once might have rushed past.
Grief slows time, and Sunday’s snow invited me to create again. Fittingly, this tribute is ready to publish today, Tuesday, March 17th, a day that holds a special place in Orion’s story.
In a month, I’ll be in Minneapolis to honor my uncle’s life. I remember telling him the story of Orion and how he came into mine. He smiled and said, “He chose you.” A veterinarian with a deep passion for animals, he understood our kind of bond and the heartbreak that follows better than anyone.
I love and miss you both.
Orion Chooses Me
On Friday the 13th, March 2015, I truly noticed – and snapped my first pic of – Orion. I had just started a new job as Office Manager at Chronos Interactive, a web and mobile development company. That morning, he silently crept up from behind on the way to his food bowl. I was captivated by his giant green eyes, and I also adored that he was black as night, like a tiny, majestic panther.
Orion was the office cat, permanently stationed there after being rescued by the owner, Stelios, a few years earlier. When Stelios first brought him home, his daughter turned out to be allergic, so rather than returning Orion to the shelter, the office became his full-time residence.
He was very shy at first, sticking mostly to my co-worker’s desk. But just days after that first photo, Tuesday, March 17th, he jumped onto my desk, crawled into my lap, and began kneading profusely. In that instant, it was clear: Orion chose me. I was both shocked and delighted, quickly capturing the moment before it ended.
From that day forward, our bond quietly took root. Each morning, he would come running to greet me, suddenly my devoted assistant, committed to helping with – or snoozing through – whatever task awaited at my desk. I spoiled him with turkey sandwich leftovers. I was told he eventually started to cry when I left for the day. I missed him too.
Apartment Living
The first time I brought Orion home to stay with Cam and me was during the three-day Memorial Day weekend in May of 2015. From the moment he arrived, he seemed completely taken with our apartment. He spent hours perched by the big windows watching the world outside, eagerly exploring every corner of the new space, and making sure I was always in sight.
He even tolerated being picked up from time to time – though it was clear that was never going to be his favorite thing.
After that first visit, it became our little routine. Orion would come stay with us for holiday breaks, padding around the apartment as if he had always lived there. Before long, those occasional visits turned into nearly every weekend.
Gradually, he seemed to figure out when his stay was coming to an end, and it quickly became clear that he really didn’t enjoy the crate. Whenever it was time for him to go back to the office, he would mysteriously disappear. More than once I found myself frantically searching the entire apartment, only to discover him tucked into some hidden corner, doing his best to avoid the trip back. One time he wedged himself behind the fridge so well that I couldn’t get him out and had to clock in without him (Stelios was very understanding). It was becoming clear that he had decided he was staying, whether we agreed or not.
Over that year, our bond with Orion grew deeper, and by the end of 2015 Stelios kindly offered to let us keep him permanently.
Nurse Kit
I didn’t know it then, but the universe placed Orion in my life just before I would need him most. Soon after he made my home his, I was overtaken by symptoms that wouldn’t let go.
Fatigue, gastrointestinal issues, brain fog, arthritis, unexplained lesions, and more gradually took over my days. Doctor after doctor searched for answers until a colonoscopy in early 2016 revealed the cause: Crohn’s disease.
Devastated and the sickest I’d ever been, Orion became my devoted nurse. He never left my side, even if that meant patiently waiting just outside the bathroom door, a loyalty eloquently captured by Cam.
His steady companionship carried me through some very dark moments, and I will always be grateful for the comfort and love he gave me.
A New Lair
In the summer of 2016, I was on the mend, and Cameron and I married and bought a house – giving Orion a new lair to conquer. He quickly proved fearless, scaling new heights and claiming the sunniest spots.
A short while later, a very special gift arrived from Grandma Lisa: the Scratch Lounge, which quickly became one of his all-time favorites. He’d eagerly demand pets from inside the box, then happily scratch to his heart’s content.
Gizmo’s Arrival
When we rescued Gizmo in June of 2017, Orion was no longer an only child – a fact he adjusted surprisingly well to, all things considered. He graciously shared his beloved Scratch Lounge, set clear personal boundaries, and even allowed Gizmo to get up close for snuggles.
They weren’t besties, but they were companions in their own way. And Gizmo gave Orion access to something he had long desired: the Great Outdoors.
Jungle Panther
With Gizmo going in and out at will, it felt only fair to give Orion the same freedom. So, in the summer of 2017, we started him on a leash.
It didn’t take long for him to gain the confidence to come and go as he pleased, rarely venturing beyond the yard’s perimeter. He never wanted to be too far from me. Yet the joy it brought him was undeniable and he became the happiest I had ever seen. Over the next few years, he flourished, prowling his lair like a true jungle panther: fearless, free, and fully in his element.
Nurse Kit Returns
Early 2020 didn’t just bring the looming threat of COVID into our house – it also marked my second, more devastating, Crohn’s flare. Once again, Orion showed up to do what he did best: be my devoted, unconditionally loving nurse. He carried me through another profoundly dark period, reminding me that even in the hardest times, he was there.
Bandit’s Arrival
Our COVID puppy, Bandit, was born on Tuesday, March 17th, 2020 – the same day Orion officially “chose me” in 2015, and the day this tribute was shared in 2026. Three Tuesdays, three March 17ths, three tender moments…a cosmic nod to nine lives and my Irish luck on St. Paddy’s Day. Happy Birthday, Bandit!
In May, we brought Bandit home as our third fur child. While he was everything I had hoped for after committing to a (human) child-free life with Cam, he was…not exactly Orion’s cup of tea.
Bandit was pushy, needy, and endlessly demanding of attention. Orion, by contrast, was gentle, docile, and calm. While they tolerated each other, “friends” they were not.
I often found Orion retreating upstairs, seeking peace away from Bandit’s relentless energy – and I missed him. Even with encouragement to interact, he increasingly lacked the energy to fend off Bandit’s antics. Slowly, his health began to decline, and I could see the toll it was taking on my sweet, steadfast companion.
Senior Years
In 2023, Orion started squinting and a visit to the vet confirmed eye degeneration. He was also battling arthritis, each step a little harder than the last.
The heat pad became his sanctuary, a small warm island on difficult days, complemented by monthly Solensia shots that brought him much-needed relief.
Even when he wasn’t feeling well, Orion remained my velcro, clinging close whenever he could. He especially treasured the moments that meant venturing outside.
Fatal Diagnosis
In the final months of Orion’s life, appointments with our amazing vet, Dr. Russell of Green Mountain Animal Hospital, became all too frequent. Orion, as always, hated the crate – regularly protesting so dramatically that he would pee on me – turning each visit into a stressful ordeal for both of us.
In the fall of 2025, after beginning to urinate in sneaky places outside his litter boxes, he was diagnosed with diabetes. Insulin offered some relief, but pancreatitis soon made diabetes management nearly impossible.
The first truly worrying signs came at home in late 2025. He stopped curling up next to me at night, withdrew from the outdoors, was no longer interested in his heat pad, and grew uncharacteristically quiet at night…far from his typical self, when he would wail randomly until morning (an honestly exasperating trait). Each change felt like a warning I couldn’t ignore.
An ultrasound at the end of January revealed advanced heart failure, affecting both sides. The prognosis was grim…Orion had only days left.
Dr. Russell warned that if we let nature take its course, the end would likely be dramatic. She gently recommended euthanasia, offering both in-office and at-home options to ensure a peaceful passage. With a heavy heart I accepted the decision, knowing it was the compassion he deserved after carrying me through so many dark moments. As I placed him in the crate to bring him home, I made him a promise: this would be the last time in that awful thing. When his moment came, he would be in the comfort of his own space.
Last Days
Knowing Orion had only days left made every moment sacred. We arranged an at-home euthanasia with Dr. Makowski of At Home Angel Pets who understood the situation and was on-call.
Cameron stayed home the next day, and thankfully Orion seemed brighter, likely eased by the diuretic Dr. Russell had prescribed. After a day of snuggling, petting him, and simply being together, we decided to schedule his Rainbow Bridge crossing for the following afternoon – Friday, January 30th, 2026 – while he was still, hopefully, feeling somewhat okay.
On his last evening, Orion cuddled next to me in bed like the old days, and I felt profound gratitude for his contentment and for staying so close.
Final Ritual
Orion’s decline was unmistakable the following morning when he could no longer reach his food and cried out in despair. Cam and I felt reassured by the decision we had made the day before, knowing that in just a few hours, his suffering would end before inevitably getting worse.
In the quiet moments he was awake, we looked through photos, reliving memories and speaking of all his favorite spots in the yard…the places where his ashes would one day be scattered. Orion and I also drew from our favorite tarot and oracle decks, a ritual we had shared for years, grounding ourselves and honoring the crossing that was soon to come.
First, I drew the Page of Pentacles, a card of growth, learning and new beginnings – a reassuring message as I prepared to guide my gentle panther into the great beyond.
Then, I waited, until Orion flicked his tail to pick…Burial Ground. A symbol of memory, spirit and ancestors. He was ready to journey back to the stars.
Together, the cards marked the sacred rite of his departure, an intimate final ritual between us that I will treasure forever.
Peaceful Passage
When Dr. Makowski arrived, Orion stayed calm – an encouraging sign we had chosen the right person for him. She offered a special final meal while preparing his medications, which Cameron fed to him. He devoured it eagerly, seemingly in bliss during his last conscious moments with us.
She administered the first injection while he was still eating, and soon he lay down peacefully. With the second, he sighed in relief, releasing his discomfort. Within moments, he surrendered with brave courage, our soft words surrounding him, as she listened until his heartbeat faded, leaving only serene stillness.
Dr. Makowski carefully gathered keepsakes: a tuft of fur, nose and paw prints, then wrapped him snugly in a carrier. His journey continued, surrounded by flowers in her car, and we will always be grateful for the love and dignity he received in his final moments under her care.
Rest in Power, Orion
Thank you for choosing me in this lifetime. I love you.
