This is probably the one thing that makes being on the other side of the world really suck. My mum called up this morning to say that our family's cat had died. His lungs had filled with fluid, the vet thinks this may have been due to cancer, so it was decided that he had to be put down to save him from any more pain. Up until the last couple of weeks he was still being the larrikin cat he's always been, but his condition deteriorated rapidly.
He was a charger of a cat and had a real personality - much more than some people I've met in my lifetime. He outlived a lot of other cats by nearly making it to 15 years old. Some people may think "dude, it's only a cat, get over it" but it's the memories I associate with him that make it all the more painful. I'm very big on memories and I get extremely attached to things, so I spent the whole day reminiscing about the time from when we first got him (when I was in primary school for crying out loud) up to this point. I just wish I could've said a last goodbye to him before he went.
He was a cat model I reckon. If he hadn't been neutered all the girl cats would have been forming lines blocks long for a chance to see him, and I would have had to tell them to just leave the poor guy alone for a few minutes.
RIP, and thanks for the memories...