Kreia
A donation was made in memory of Kreia by the doctors and staff at Northwest Veterinary Hospital on Mar 30, 2026.
Kreia was the kind of cat people fell in love with instantly.
She had these big, dreamy eyes that were very disarming. Everyone, friends, strangers, even people who insisted they didn’t like cats, all fell. One look at her, and they were hers. Every veterinarian she ever met became attached to her, too, always commenting on how she purred in the exam room and was gentle and accommodating. Even though the vet's office can be a bit scary, she always behaved well. After her death, I received cards from her regular vet, her internal medicine doctor, and the staff who were familiar with her, each with a very specific message and their own “Kreia stories.” I really appreciated that. I haven't had that experience with other vets for my other cats. She just had that kind of presence that made people care.
At home, I called her the “Queen of Withholding.” If she wanted affection, she would stand just out of reach, making you come to her. She loved to chase hair ties across the room, but she would always drop them about 5 or 6 feet short, as if to say, "That’s enough effort from me." Her love was never given freely, but that only made it more meaningful when she chose you.
In September 2025, Kreia was diagnosed with diabetes. We went through multiple scares before finding stability, and for a brief time, she even went into remission. It didn’t last long, but it gave us hope. Even through everything, she remained herself: funny, withholding but loving, and strong. I truly believed she would be one of those cats who just kept pushing through for a long time to come.
When she had been stable for a few months, I finally felt ready to travel again. I left the twins in the care of their amazingly empathetic and wonderful cat sitter, Pin-An, one of the few people outside of very close friends and family whom both cats really trust and have fun with. Unfortunately, a couple of days after I left, she showed signs that something was wrong. Pin-An took her to the emergency vet for me, and it was determined that Kreia was likely in congestive heart failure. Her condition declined quickly, and she died that same day.
I was not there with her when she died. I don’t believe I will ever get over that I was not there with her when she died.
But I do know she was not alone. She was with someone kind and loving, Pin-An, who stayed with her and made sure she was cared for and comforted in her final moments, for which I am forever grateful.
Our family has experienced a great deal of loss these past two years. We lost my husband, Tristan, and our two elderly cats, Revan and Rain. Now it is just me and her brother, Krayt, left. The last of the Fury Pride. We're both feeling her absence heavily.
There will never be another cat like Kreia. She had such a particular mix of beauty, humor, and sweetness. Though she didn’t give her affection easily, when she gave it, it really meant something.
And we will miss her for the rest of our lives.
She had these big, dreamy eyes that were very disarming. Everyone, friends, strangers, even people who insisted they didn’t like cats, all fell. One look at her, and they were hers. Every veterinarian she ever met became attached to her, too, always commenting on how she purred in the exam room and was gentle and accommodating. Even though the vet's office can be a bit scary, she always behaved well. After her death, I received cards from her regular vet, her internal medicine doctor, and the staff who were familiar with her, each with a very specific message and their own “Kreia stories.” I really appreciated that. I haven't had that experience with other vets for my other cats. She just had that kind of presence that made people care.
At home, I called her the “Queen of Withholding.” If she wanted affection, she would stand just out of reach, making you come to her. She loved to chase hair ties across the room, but she would always drop them about 5 or 6 feet short, as if to say, "That’s enough effort from me." Her love was never given freely, but that only made it more meaningful when she chose you.
In September 2025, Kreia was diagnosed with diabetes. We went through multiple scares before finding stability, and for a brief time, she even went into remission. It didn’t last long, but it gave us hope. Even through everything, she remained herself: funny, withholding but loving, and strong. I truly believed she would be one of those cats who just kept pushing through for a long time to come.
When she had been stable for a few months, I finally felt ready to travel again. I left the twins in the care of their amazingly empathetic and wonderful cat sitter, Pin-An, one of the few people outside of very close friends and family whom both cats really trust and have fun with. Unfortunately, a couple of days after I left, she showed signs that something was wrong. Pin-An took her to the emergency vet for me, and it was determined that Kreia was likely in congestive heart failure. Her condition declined quickly, and she died that same day.
I was not there with her when she died. I don’t believe I will ever get over that I was not there with her when she died.
But I do know she was not alone. She was with someone kind and loving, Pin-An, who stayed with her and made sure she was cared for and comforted in her final moments, for which I am forever grateful.
Our family has experienced a great deal of loss these past two years. We lost my husband, Tristan, and our two elderly cats, Revan and Rain. Now it is just me and her brother, Krayt, left. The last of the Fury Pride. We're both feeling her absence heavily.
There will never be another cat like Kreia. She had such a particular mix of beauty, humor, and sweetness. Though she didn’t give her affection easily, when she gave it, it really meant something.
And we will miss her for the rest of our lives.
