Epitaph

I came home for the last ten minutes of Clint's life. He was already very weak, and I took him on my lap and caressed him. Then he tried to get down, so I sat him in his basket. It was like it was half a year ago, with his brother: While I was still petting him, he lifted his head up, moaned three times, lay back down, and life left him. So, apparently, he did feel Death coming (we and the vet had half-expected him to die before he noticed it).

And I am left to mourn him, alone. I am so sorry Jörg was not there for his last minutes; it was his cat, after all, and they spent nearly 16 years together. Now Clint's heart failed while Jörg was away on business, and I knew him a mere four years and it hurts so badly, and all I can do is cry for him.
I suppose it is good that at least I was there when it happened.

Farewell, Clint. Thank you for being the cutest, darlingest, wisest cat I have known. You will be missed.

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( Grabrede )

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