Her name was Tami. She was 21 years old. She got her name because of the markings on her face. She looked like she had tons of make-up on, so we named her Tami after the then-household name Tammy-Faye Baker. She had a good run. We loved her very much. Scratch that. We LOVE her very much. She could barely move anymore and she wasn't eating or drinking. We didn't want to do it, but if we didn't put her down, she could have lingered, and none of us would have been able to stand seeing her that way. Anyone who has had to put a beloved pet down knows how we feel right now. It doesn't matter that we have others, it doesn't matter that she "was just a cat." She was, and still is, a big part of our family. I was eleven when we got her, and it is going to be very hard to know she won't be complaining at us for more ice in her water, or for filling her bowls, or any number of other things that we will remember her for. She will be missed. I don't know if I...
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