At 2:00 pm yesterday, my little girl passed away in front of my eyes.

I had Figaro since I was about 6 years old when I picked her out from a litter of kittens at a pet store. "Look at the other kittens too!" my mother had persisted, but no, I was insistent on the little white and grey girl I had in my arms.
About a year ago, I found a small lump on her back. Concerned, my mother and I took her to the vet and had it removed for about $600, half of which I payed. After returning home with her, the vet called and told us that the lump had indeed been cancer, but that they had removed it all.
Weeks after, the lump had returned. At first I told myself that it was just tissue building back around the stitches. But it grew, and grew... And I knew in my heart that it was back.
Eventually, it grew so that the total size of it was equal to that of a baseball, perhaps a little more.
Early Sunday morning, it broke through her skin.
I knew I couldn't let her get any worse...

I know what I did was best for her, but it's still so hard to let go.
She's in the Summerlands now... She's happy and comfortable, and her pains of her physical body are gone.

Until I meet with you again, Figs... Here's to you, little one...



I miss you so much already...