We had to say goodbye to our angry 20-year-old kitty Miguel tonight; it was time.
We actually thought we would have said goodbye quite a while ago. He was diagnosed with kidney failure in 2003. Four years ago our vet in Vermont told us he probably didn't have much time left. My husband was convinced he'd actually died a while ago but was walking around out of habit. This cat just kept hanging on, sleeping next to my leg on the couch every evening and near my head most nights, and trying to beat the snot out of the dogs several times each day. Even at 140 kitty years and pretty much senile, he was still loaded with attitude.
But he was ready; life was getting harder and it wasn't going to get better.
Goodbye old man. You were a good little buddy and I'm going to miss your grumpy old self.