Her name was Cait. She belonged to a family member. As I understand it, she was named after a character in a Final Fantasy game.

She was 17 years old. This morning it was clear what needed to be done. I had offered to be the one to take her in to the vet, and be with her, since her owner felt completely unable to handle the ordeal. So I was woken up by the call.

Cait was always a difficult cat with most people. She preferred her solitude, and hissed when you got near. But she made up to me, and let me brush her. I visited her often and took care of her when her people left town.

I thought we might make it to next weekend, but it was clear that she was suffering.

I'm flip flopping today between being a blubbering mess, and chuckling at my friends being goofy. I feel okay so long as I let myself be sad when I need to. That's the key.

Cait, you were kind of a monster, but I saw your sweet side, and I'm glad I could be there for you. I'm glad we bonded, and made the others jealous when you decided I was alright. I will miss you.