It's a week since I had to take Gnasher to the vet. Had to sign a form giving them authorisation to dispose of him. It was awful. It felt like murder. I still feel sick thinking about it. I know it was the right thing to do. The best for him. I was being a responsible owner. Quality of life over quantity, as my work colleague put it, when she had to take her 18year old cat to the vet. It still sucks though. I'm sitting next to his little nest - can't seem to bring myself to clean it. I know I have to, but it's like I'll be losing him forever. I know I have to close that door, hold on to the memory of him...ah but it's so hard... so hard!

Damnit!