Last night we laid to rest the littlest member of our family. It's been 24 hours now and I think I've finally (maybe) run out of tears. We've had two house cats in the years that we lived here, Stinky and Spanky. Stinky was mine, she was devoted to me, tolerated everbody else. I lost her 5 years ago this fall. Spanky was never quite the same without her big sister, she had emotional, pyscological problems afterwards. But she adapted to being alone, other than the company of me and my husband. She was his cat. They had a routine every night after he had his shower. She'd go to a particular spot and vocally demand her treats which he faithfully gave her, then it was time for her head rubs and scratches behind the ears. But come last week of April, she stopped asking for treats, then she stopped eating altogether. I tried her with every kind of cat food under the sun, and even human food. She refused all of it. As time went by, she lost the sparkle in her eyes and the bounce in her step. All she wanted to do was sleep. I knew old age had finally caught up to her, and I should've put her to sleep. But I was selfish, I couldn't let go of her. Even when it got to the point in the last few days when I'd bring her water in a big spoon so she could drink, I couldn't let her go. Now she is gone. As my husband dug every shovel full of dirt, he cried, and when I laid her in the ground next to Stinky, I said "Go to Stinky, she's waiting for you. Find her and be happy again." I hope she is. Now the house is empty and lonely. Maybe someday, another little cat will catch our eyes and worm her way into our hearts. Till then, my heart will ache for my two friends that kept me company many days and nights. Stinky, Spanky, I love you and miss you.