Well. No nice way to put this. We just found our eldest cat, Molly, under the nightstand, approximately ten hours dead of an apparent stroke. Her body has been dealt with for now, but she was very dear to my wife (I liked her too, but she was momma’s girl) and Amanda is presently inconsolable. Not that I blame her.

She was very old. She’d had a very rough life. She was considered un-adoptable by the shelter. She spent nine months confined to a crate before we took her in, because she was “too aggressive”. Or so they thought.

In reality she was just scared, not of people, but of other cats. She just needed some patience and care, and she came out of her shell well enough. She’d sleep next to my wife’s pillow, demand cuddles at all hours.

Her life actually improved when she went blind - she no longer felt so scared by the sight of other cats, so she finally relaxed a bit.

In the end, she found a quiet spot and went.