The biggest death I remember being affected by was my cat, Joe. He was three, and it came on so quickly that I didn’t have time to come home and see him before he was gone. I was at University more than 5 hours away at the time. It seemed silly to travel home just because he was sick. Then he was gone and I never had a chance to say goodbye. My last picture of him is him all wired up and sedated, far from the lively cat that brought in half a rabbit as a gift for me. One consolation I have is that he didn’t die alone. He was loved, and I think he knew that
