Minnie has changed. She has stopped eating entirely and left her cat’s house and the porch, and we believe she is going off to die.

She is true to the code of the barn cat – when they are ready, they reject attention, stop eating, and disappear to die privately and alone.

We are guessing that Minnie, whom we haven’t seen in 24 hours now for the first time since she got sick, has gone under the front porch or deep into the garden, deciding to end her life naturally, the way she wants to, and that nature and instinct compel her to do.

We could be wrong; she might yet reemerge for a little while, but this shift is the most significant in the past week or so, and we both feel this is probably the end for her and her very long journey with the two of us.

As I mentioned, getting Minnie and bringing her to my farm was the first thing Maria and I did together. She was to me a love angel, come to bring us together.

I’m sharing this not to upset anyone or titillate but to keep my promise to keep her many followers and admirers up to date. She wasn’t just our cat.

It’s noon on Friday, and if we don’t see Minnie by tomorrow, we’ll search for her and say some words for her, and if possible, bury her next to Flo and Gus in one of our gardens.

We may never find her. Leaving her to die naturally was the right decision, I’m glad we made it.

I thank so many of you for loving, championing, and following her unusual and touching life. I was reluctant to agree to have her leg amputated, but when I saw the love that had developed between her and Maria, there was no longer any doubt—two shy outcasts looking for their place in the world.

The happy news is that both of them found it, with each other and the world beyond.

It’s too soon for a eulogy, but she will certainly not be forgotten. If this changes, I will let you know. Thanks again, Jon.