I hate the idea of death. I know it's a necessity; we all have to or else we would be overly populated. But it just sucks so bad. My cat, Little Bubba, was put to sleep today. He'd been sick for about a month but I really thought he was going to get better (our older cat got over the same thing). But when I got home from college yesterday he was so pathetic looking. He just slept all the time, was as skinny as could be (and he used to be quite the fatty), could hardly walk, and was like a ragdoll. I know it was time to put him down, but it's just so hard to let him go. When we took him to the vet I was sobbing, but I'm glad I got to be there when it happened. I got to kiss him and tell him goodbye. We buried him in the little animal cemetary we started in our pasture and bought stones to make a headstone. I just keep remembering how great of a cat he was. He might have been mean and moody at times, but he was my little bubba, my friend, my companion. Every time he would see me he would give his little meow, but it was more like an arrr, and I would meow back, and we would "talk". Now he's gone, I'll never see him again, never talk to him again, never cuddle again. I just hope that he knew how much I loved him. I hope that we did the right thing for him and that he wasn't upset or disappointed in us. I love you Little Bubba!!