and now she came back to be petted and was pretty insistent about it. We're gonna get along just fine.
And we did.
Last Friday, Diva had a flare-up of a chronic problem (normally minor but uncomfortable) so we took her to the vet for a "spa treatment". It had been a little over a year since the last time this happened, and the X-Ray showed that her kidneys were half the size they were last time she was in (when they were fine). Blood tests suggested that her kidneys might be failing. The main symptom of this is dehydration, so the vet put her on a fluid IV, and told us that he wanted to keep her for the weekend, after which he'd show us how to give her subcutaneous fluids.
On Sunday he called back to tell us that even with the IV she was not rehydrating, which meant that subcutaneous fluids at home would not be enough to compensate for her poor kidneys. She was no longer eating. Today we went down to the vet to spend some time with her and found her very lethargic, though she perked up briefly when she saw us. We gave her a good brushing - which she always enjoys - and gave her a good half hour of the petting that she craves so much, which she seemed to like a lot. Then when she got too tired to hold her head up and lean into my petting hand any more, we put her to sleep.
Diva was a pretty grumpy cat. Looking into her eyes, you could tell that she was not impressed with you. Unless you were petting her.
Pet her enough and eventually she'd decide you were worth spending time with, and then she'd be a friendly, cuddly lump of fluff. She loved to sit on my knee or on the arm of a chair beside me, not saying anything, just hanging out. For a while, while I didn't have a separate home office, she'd park herself on the couch all day as I worked, as close to me as she could get and still be comfy. If anyone else walked in, she'd give them such a glaring.
After "disdainful", her most common mood was, "smug". She could be amazingly smug when she was being petted. She wanted you to know that she deserved this, dammit.
When I knew her she was getting into her later years (she made it to 16), so she spent a lot of time sleeping with a paw over her eyes. She perfected a position we called "the prawn".
Every once in a while, though, she'd take a sudden interest in a toy or some catnip, and surprise us with a burst of energy.
Mainly, though, she liked to sit just out of reach, enticing you to pet her but making sure you had to work for it. If you were really lucky she'd let you pet her belly.
She was the fluffiest cat I've ever known, and I'll miss her.