My kitty, Prince, died yesterday. We had him put down. The guy came in, examined him, found a tumor on his kidney, and said he probably had a brain tumor too. He said it would be the best thing for him if we had him put down. He gave Prince the shot, and within 5 seconds Prince was just gone. I don't think I ever cried so much in my life. I actually have salt burns on my cheecks. I feel better in some ways; I won't have to worry about waking up one morining and finding him gone. I won't have to worry about him being in pain, and not eating. His death was quick, and it would have been selfish and cruel of me to keep him around for my sake; he probably would have starved to death, or died from dhydration. I'm just upset he didn't die comfortably at home; he was scared and confused, and probaly had no idea what was going on. We brought him home, I was adament about that, I wasn't going to leave him there, even if it was just his body coming home with us. We dug a whole in a backyard, which is alot harder than it seems, and we burried him. The house seems emptyer; I'm still sad, but I'll eventually get over it. I just wanna be able to think about him and not cry. He was the one animal I always said I couldn't live with out. He could do no wrong; my sister and I showered him with unconditional love and affection, and within 5 seconds all that was gone; He'll never again slink into my room, jump up onto my bed, and ever so sneakily trick me into letting him steal all the pillow space. And I'll no longer be able to snuggle up to him, and gently slip into a sound sleep with the sound of his purrs.

I miss you Princey T-T