Our cat died, just minutes ago.

Most of the family was heading out for a trip to some boardwalk, then dad rushes back in to grab a towel. Mom comes in a few minutes later and tells me what happened. After dad moved the van, they found the cat bleeding from his mouth, and dad was rushing him to the vet. Mom says he wasn't laying anywhere that looked like he'd been run over, and he always gets out from under vehicles when people are getting into them anyway. I guess being old and sick finally caught up with him. When dad got back, he said the cat was dead by the time he was taking him to the vet. They're going to cremate him.

I'm... kind of numb right now. I'm not crying or anything because I knew this would happen eventually, but it's still a shock that it happened right now.

Now I've got to keep quiet about it in front of grandma because dad said not to tell her til this evening when we're all over there.

*curls into a corner*