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Two nights ago, as I lay down to go to sleep with Tabitha settled between my knees, I suddenly thought back to when my family and I took Fluffy to the vet for the last time, of how all of us stood around her, stroking her until the end, and how wide and glassy her eyes became. I hadn't really thought about it like that in a while, and it hit me hard enough that I started crying.

Twenty minutes ago, I turned on my computer to check my emails before leaving for work, and there was a message from my mother telling me that they'd taken Stanley to the vet yesterday. When the vet described to them the state of his kidneys, and how any treatment could give him two weeks more at best, they decided they didn't want him to suffer any longer. Both my brothers happened to be there, so I was the only one missing; I'm glad he had everyone around him in the end.

So here's to you, Stanley, our pear-shaped cat, handsomest of puskies, our once Acro-cat, gros plouk gourmand adoré de ta famille. Sois gentil envers ta soeur au paradis des minous.

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