
I’ve always been a believer in “The show must go on,”; but there are times when it can’t go on, and this is one of them.
Robbie’s condition was hopeless, and getting worse. I’d rather not go into details. We’d tried everything, held back nothing that promised any hope. But this morning there was no hope left at all.
Eighteen years we had her–a prodigious age for a cat. Most of my family has died. The few who are left live very far away. Our pets have always been a very important part of our lives. More so now than ever. You discover how much your soul has in common with your pet’s.
And that’s about as far as I can go, just now.



