Originally Posted by Plankton

Had to put this poor old man down on Friday. His name is Kitty, and he lived to a ripe old age of 22 (about 105 in cat years). The GF's father had adopted him in 1991, and his dying wish was that my GF take him and make his final days here on earth as warm and comfortable as possible. That was 3 years ago. He had been getting bad over the last month or so, he could barely use his back paws/legs, was going blind, and had a distended belly. When we came home on Friday after work, he was laying on the kitchen floor, unable to move. He just looked up at us and let out the most heart wrenching meow, which was obviously a cry for help, so we took him immediately to the vet where our fears were solidified, when the doc said putting him down would be the best thing for him at that point. GF turned to me, and with a heavy heart I said "Yes". We were there for him through to the end, as I gave him "Wratches" behind his ear as GF held him close. He was the most tender, loving, and gentle cat I have ever met. He would always be there waiting for me/us after work with his head held up high for me to give him a scratch behind the ears as he'd follow my hand, almost falling off of whatever furniture he was perched on. I'll miss him dearly. R.I.P. Kitty. Say hello to Mr and Mrs O for me my good friend.

*tears*