Sapphire’s Story:
How I Met Sapphire and Diamonds
I first met Sapphire in 2013, in the quiet seaside town of Napili, Maui, Hawaii. My dear friend Ellen knew I was searching for a Siamese kitten to adopt, and in her kindness, she found a woman in Napili who rescued cats. We drove over to meet her, and there, amidst the warm ocean breeze and soft island light, I stepped into a home filled with life—adult and juvenile cats alike. Some wandered freely in the backyard, basking in the sun, while others peered out from the garage, their curiosity gently restrained.
Among them were two beautiful Siamese kittens—littermates, gentle and wide-eyed. I asked about their story, and the woman told me they had been found huddled beneath a derelict car, abandoned by their mother, yet clinging to each other.
One of the kittens, full of bold affection, rubbed his face all over mine. I smiled and thought, this must be the rubber kitty.His brother was more reserved, watching quietly from a distance. I asked if I could adopt the affectionate one, but the woman hesitated. “I don’t want to break up the litter,” she said. “You’d need to take both Siamese kitties.”
I paused for only a moment. The answer was clear in my heart—I would adopt them both.
A Bond of Play, Moonlight, and a Bunny by the Door
Sapphire and his brother Diamonds quickly became inseparable. They played, explored, slept, and ate together. Every moment was shared, every adventure a duet. Sapphire was the darker of the two, while Diamonds, with his pale, almost-white coat, seemed to carry a little moonlight in his fur.
One day, I placed a group of small stuffed animals on their cat castle. Among them was a little bunny. To my surprise, I came home to find the bunny placed gently by the front door, as if to greet me. Amused, I returned it to its place. But the next day, and the day after that, the bunny was always waiting at the door, faithfully.
I began to wonder who the mysterious messenger was—until one afternoon, as I opened the door, I caught Sapphire in the act, proudly carrying the bunny in his mouth to welcome me home.
It was the sweetest gift.
Watching Sapphire and Diamonds grow, play, and love each other was a joy beyond words. Their bond was a quiet magic—one I felt lucky to witness every day.
The Gentle Language of Love
From the very beginning, Sapphire showed his love in the quietest of ways—through soft, rhythmic licks bestowed upon his brother, Diamonds. It was a silent language of comfort, trust, and an unbreakable bond only littermates truly understand. Though Diamonds was more reserved, every so often he would lean in and return the gesture, a tender reminder that love, once given freely, often finds its way back.
The Great Rodent Incident
One day, I was sitting in the living room when I heard a sudden noise near the window, where the air conditioner was mounted. To my surprise, a rodent—most likely a rat—popped into the room, uninvited and very much alive.
Sapphire and Diamonds reacted in completely different ways. Sapphire, startled, bolted into the bedroom without hesitation. But Diamonds transformed instantly into a fierce little hunter. He pounced, caught the rodent in his mouth, and—rather than dispatching it—carried it triumphantly into the bedroom, where Sapphire had taken refuge.
To both my dismay and the clear displeasure of Sapphire, Diamonds released the still-squirming intruder. The rodent immediately darted under a heavy hardwood dresser, disappearing from sight.
It was no easy task, but somehow, using a pair of metal barbecue tongs and a whole lot of determination, I managed to catch the critter. I rushed it outside and flung it across the street—freeing the house of chaos, at least for the moment.
Cat on a leash
Both of my cats were essentially indoor companions, with the occasional chaperoned adventure into the outdoors. Of the two, Sapphire was the braver explorer when it came to venturing out on a leash.
For fourteen years, I lived in a condo with a lush inner courtyard—almost jungle-like—with overgrown plumeria trees and a variety of palms: coconut, royal, areca, and more. A circular walkway wound through this tropical oasis, and late at night, when the world was quieter and the chance of strangers was low, I would take Sapphire for walks.
Both Sapphire and Diamonds were incredibly shy around unfamiliar people, so these moonlit strolls became a peaceful way for Sapphire to explore at his own pace. With time and patience, and many nights beneath the rustling leaves, Sapphire gradually grew confident enough to complete the full circuit of the courtyard.
In the beginning, Sapphire would shiver in fear as I carried him farther from home, his little body trembling in my arms. When I set him down, he would immediately bolt—racing back along the path, desperate to reach the safety of home. Those early walks were more like guided sprints than strolls, but over time, his confidence grew. With patience and gentle persistence, Sapphire eventually learned to walk the full loop of the courtyard, no longer running in fear, but exploring with curiosity and quiet bravery.
Sapphire the Great reptile Hunter
I learned early on that living at Kihei Resort—with its thousands of small reptiles—meant my boys had an endless supply of “prey.” Both were eager hunters, but Sapphire took the obsession to another level. He lived to hunt lizards.
Unfortunately, Hawaiian lizards can be toxic to cats, so I never allowed them to eat their catch. It wasn’t easy, but I became quite practiced at prying little jaws open—usually just in time for the lucky lizard to make a frantic escape.
Sapphire had a favorite trick: he would swipe at a lizard with his paw and often snag the tail. Of course, the tail would detach, wriggling in his grip, while the rest of the lizard made a clean getaway. Sapphire would stare at the spot, confused and frustrated, as if to ask, “Where did he go?”
Despite the chase, I always tried to keep things safe—for both lizards and cats.
Trips to the veterinarian
Both my boys had from day one issues with scratching. I took them in one at a time initially to get all their shots and to register their tattoo’s and name with my ID phone, address etc. I never bought insurance to cover their medical vet bills which might have been a huge mistake since they had underlying health issues designated as “non specific dermatitis”. There are usualy environmental or food allergies that can contribute to this. I tried all kinds of vet recommendations short of allergy testing & immunotherapy which would cost $$$. Ultimately I settled with giving the boys a pill “apoquel” first by mouth & later placed it in pill pockets and let them think it’s a treat. My friend Ellen helped considerably in sharing the vet bills which I am so grateful for.
Saying Goodbye to Sapphire
Across the Rainbow Bridge
In 2017, I began to notice that Sapphire’s belly was becoming hard and full. At first, I thought he might just be eating a bit too much. But as the months passed—leading up to July 17—he became less active and more reclusive. My concern grew, and I finally took him to the vet.
The doctor gently examined him and immediately felt swollen lymph nodes under his neck. X-rays confirmed the worst: Sapphire had cancer. His body was riddled with it.
Then came the impossible question—the one no pet parent ever wants to face. The vet asked me what I wanted to do: take him home and let the disease run its course, or spare him further pain by choosing humane euthanasia.
Even now, as I write this, the emotions come rushing back. It feels like I’m reliving that moment all over again.
I told the doctor, “I love Sapphire and don’t want to lose him… but I also don’t want him to suffer.” My love for him demanded kindness, even in heartbreak. I chose to release him from his pain.
The vet explained the process. The first injection would ease his discomfort, relieving the pain caused by the cancer. Within a few minutes, Sapphire was calm, his eyes glassy with sedation, his body no longer tense. The doctor said, “I’ll give you two a few minutes alone. I’ll come back and ask if you’re ready.”
I held Sapphire in my arms and cried, knowing this would be our final moment together. He wouldn’t be coming home with me—a thought that felt unbearable.
About ten minutes later, the vet returned. I gently placed Sapphire on the exam table. With care and compassion, the doctor administered the final injection.
He placed his stethoscope over Sapphire’s chest, listening for the heartbeat.
A minute later, he softly said, “He’s gone.”
I made arrangements to have Sapphire cremated. Later, I scattered his ashes around his favorite hunting grounds and planted a dwarf citrus tree in the same place—a living tribute rooted in love.
Though Sapphire is no longer with me in the physical world, he lives on in my heart—part broken, part filled with joy that he had a beautiful life. He was loved deeply by his brother Diamonds, by our dear friend Ellen, and by me.
Sapphire was—and always will be—my brave, curious, and loving boy.
