I am very sad.  Last week, my kitty, a huge Ragdoll named "Sir Lancelot", died.  He was ten years old.  He died because his kidneys failed, and he got very sick.  He lost a lot of weight and stopped eating; he also had trouble peeing and going to the bathroom.  We got very scared, so we took him to the vet.  The vet said there was nothing they could do, so he, more or less, gave him a special shot to make him go to sleep, and he died.

I was with Sir Lancelot when he died.  I cried like a little baby, even though I am 12 years old and should know better.  It was the hardest decision our family ever had to make.  We knew Sir Lancelot was suffering, so we decided that maybe his going to sleep would be the best thing for him.

After Sir Lancelot got his shot and died, we brought him back home in a box; we then buried him by his favorite tree in the backyard.  Of course, all of us cried:  mom, dad, Patrick (my big brother), Emma (my little sister; she's six; Patrick is thirteen), and myself.  Before we buried Sir Lancelot, we all said special things about him that made us smile through our tears and how we would always love him and never forget him.  We then said our goodbyes and went inside as dad buried him in a hole he'd dug in the yard. 

We didn't feel like eating supper; we were all too upset about our kitty dying.  We were glad he was no longer suffering, but at the same time, when he died, it felt like a part of us, his family, died right along with him.  I guess a part of us did.

We are all a little sad, but we are getting better slowly.  The worst thing is this:  we think we hear him meowing or see him walking out of the corner of our eye, only to realize that he is no longer here with us.  It drives all of us crazy, and we start crying all over again.  I don't think we will ever forget Sir Lancelot:  he was the best cat we ever had.  He could make us laugh with his madcap antics and make us feel better wheenver he flopped on his side and rolled around or purred in our ears.  He had the sweetest "purr"sonality of any cat, and everyone who knew him loved him as much as we did.

We took Sir Lancelot's things to the local animal shelter, as a way to donate and help them out.  We may eventually get another cat down the road, but right now is not the time.  It's too soon after Sir Lancelot's death to even think of replacing him.  And he will never be replaced; he was definitely something special!

I am just glad we had Sir Lancelot as long as we did.  He brought us ten years of joy and laughter; now he's gone, and all we have are the memories of him.  To lose a pet is one of the worst things that can ever happen to a person; it's like you've lost an important member of your family.  Losing a pet is as bad as losing a grandma or grandpa or even a mother, father, or a brother or sister.  You still feel the same sadness and grief, and it takes a while before it ever goes away completely.

Oh, Sir Lancelot, whey did you have to die??  It's been only a week, but I miss you like crazy!  You were my special furry buddy!!!  :(