There’s no better word to describe Manny than a fighter. He was one of our first rescued bottle-fed babies, and from day one, he made his presence known by grabbing his nipple and chugging double the amount his siblings (Mickey and Molly) did. As a kitten, he would run around like crazy, playing until he would just fall over, asleep from exhaustion, with his toy still in his mouth. He was obsessed with boxes, pans, suitcases; any container he could squeeze himself into. Car rides also thrilled him, which was great because he’s moved with us to 3 states. He loved sitting in his carrier, watching the world fly by.

Manny was also our little menace, picking on his brother and uncle Milo, but we loved him so. The only cats he really bonded with were his uncle Max and sister Molly. For the past few years, Manny and Molly have been inseparable. As he started developing chronic conditions like diabetes and CKD, Molly would be by his side, playing nurse, as we administered his medications and Sub Q fluids. They truly were a bonded pair.

Despite his long-standing medical conditions, he did very well! His health was quite impressive until mid-August 2025, the day we took him in for a slight cough. My thought was perhaps bronchitis, as a late 17-year-old, asthma seemed unlikely. His internist was excited to say his bloodwork looked amazing! His renal values had greatly improved, and everything else was perfect; however, the devastation on her face could only mean one thing. Manny had a lung mass and what ended up being primary pulmonary adenocarcinoma. Our best option was stereotactic radiation (SRT), which we hoped would give him a good 12-15 months. Sadly, it gave us 5. Cancer is always unpredictable; you just don’t know.

In early January of 2026, we brought Manny in for a check-up. Despite our best efforts, he had continued to lose weight, and our fears were confirmed – the cancer had now spread throughout his lungs and body. After returning home, he had a couple more wonderful days lounging in the warm sun with his sister before he took a marked turn for the worse.

They say that ending the suffering of your loved ones is the ultimate and last act of love because of the pain you now have to bear in their absence. This is the sad truth of loving someone more than yourself. As such, we made the call on January 14th to gently let our beloved Manny sleep one final time. He was surrounded by his family, his sister Molly right by his side. As excruciating as it is to lose him, we are so grateful he was part of our lives for 18 extraordinary years, bringing love and laughter into our home. We’re also comforted to know he no longer suffers.

Manny, you will always be in our hearts and memories.