Friday the 13th

What a horrible, horrible day today has been.  Thinking about Stinky makes me feel ill, still, and I could lay right down and cry.  I don't only because there's no point in it and it doesn't make me feel any better.  I held his head while the vet gave him the injection this morning, then wept over his body with Kyle.  But he's out of it, now, and he won't have to suffer the indignities that nature wreaks on the body when it gets beyond it's years.  It could have been hyperthyroid or diabetes, but either way it meant needles and tests and pills or injections every day with the ever looming threat of organ failure.  Lucky seemed to be looking around a bit earlier but otherwise hasn't really noticed  yet.  I expect over the next day or two he's going to get to looking around for his twin, but that will pass.  But there's an empty spot where another cat ought to be tonight.