Twizel entered our lives 14 years ago when he was only four weeks old. Left in the overnight box of the Humane Society, he was a scared, lonely, and very sick little waif. During the first two years of his life he battled one disease or infection after another, including a ruptured ear drum. But through it he all he showed an amazing will to live, and his older brother Percy (adopted at the same time) helped him heal by snuggling up and washing his face.

Because he was such a gentle little soul, we decided he needed a tough-guy moniker. So we nicknamed him Twizel Monster. We often joked that Twizel was an alien in a cat suit.
 

Twizel died of lymphoma in our home, in our arms, with the help of our sympathetic and supportive veterinarian. We think (or at least hope) this was timed well enough to have avoided the worst of the pain and suffering that could have occurred from his cancer. We were blessed with the help of our vet and her technician who came to our home so Twizel would be in familiar surroundings for his final moments.

We cherished every day we had with him and we will keep him in our hearts always.