We had our beloved cat Iris euthanized after a long illness on May 1 of this year at the age of 19 and one half years. I’ve been remiss in terms of reporting on this fact for no good reason other than it hurt then and it continues to hurt now. But I felt it was only fair to say something about our loss of our beloved grey and white tabby girl since I so recently reported on a new addition to our household, Sapphire. Iris’ history We had Iris since January 2, 2007 when she was about 10 weeks old. I always liked to imagine that she was born on Halloween, but to be honest I don’t know her exact birthdate. Regardless, she was a small and sweet little spitfire when she came into our home. I remember her first introduction to our other cats where she fluffed up and literally produced a “Spit!” sound- not a guttural back of the throat hiss, but a “spit!”. I laughed, and I don’t think she appreciated that. Iris quickly fit in well with our other cats and moved out of her isolation room into the main house within a week of arriving. She bonded quickly with our Siamese cat Bilbo who was always our household ambassador and “Uncle” cat to newcomers. As I recall it Nimbus, the light grey cat in the picture below, was fascinated by Iris at first at least. Nimbus was always a bit ‘off’ mentally: Irene and I often called him “autistic” for his strange socially inept behaviours, but for some reason he liked Iris. Over the years Iris became quite a large girl, peaking at about 7 kilograms with her belly rolls covering her back feet when she sat down. This was not something we wanted and we worked hard to help her manage her weight- but at best we kept Iris in the “obese” category instead of “morbidly obese”, But the years pass, and as Iris aged into her teen years she began to develop kidney problems. By the time she was 18 she had begun to lose weight, and in the last six months of her life her litterbox habits began to break down. We had puppy pads in various strategic locations to accommodate her needs and that worked for a while. But Iris’ interest in food became less and less until one day I concluded, rightly or not, that her health problems were no longer manageable. I struggled with the decision for a couple of weeks in late April until finally on May 1st I asked Irene to call the vet for Iris’ last trip there. I miss Iris every day. She was active and interested in things up until the end, and did a good job hiding what must have been a significant amount of discomfort. I wonder if I made the right choice for her but, in my heart of hearts, I feel I did my best to give her the quality of life she deserved. I don’t believe in an afterlife but, if such a thing exists in a form I care to see, then I’ll get the chance to meet Iris again and hopefully find out how she felt about the choices I made.