Boo, our beloved (and often annoying) cat, died in the wee hours of Xmas morning. Annette found him and I awoke to her reaction. I immediately knew what it was without asking. I was also immediately somewhat relieved that Liam had spent the night at his Nana's house.
A couple years ago, Boo had a heart attack. We spent a lot of money and energy to save his life then. It was a sum of money that I won't go into here, but to say it was a lot and it was worth it. He had to be given heart meds twice a day, which became a routine neither he, nor we, seemed to mind because we were able to restore him to a good quality of life.
Recently, he lost his appetite, and eventually we couldn't coax him to eat at all. We took him into the vet, where they suspected it was his liver. Tests later confirmed that to be the problem. It wasn't the first time he'd had a problem with his liver. We took him home and began a new regime of pills and antibiotics. We had to start force-feeding him. (In case you've never force-fed a cat, just let me tell you right now that it's not as fun as it sounds. Even if you are good at it, some of the food isn't going down the gullet. Some of it is coming your way, and nobody wants to smell like cat food all day.) I even learned how to administer fluids. IV bag, with a needle going under the skin just between the front shoulder blades. Fun stuff.
Boo looked like he was bouncing back to a small degree. His appetite had not returned, and so neither had his strength, but, he seemed much more alert. Our vet assured us that he was in no pain, and that was very important to me.
So, I take some comfort in the thought that he died peacefully, probably just going to sleep and never waking up.
I will point out, however, that only Boo would choose to kick the proverbial bucket on Christmas Day when everything is closed. We'll have to deal with that tomorrow. Anyways...
You will be missed, Boo.
You were a damned fine cat.