And that, as they say, is that.

We took him in this morning, and it was quick and painless, although very sad. Still, I’m glad it’s over, and that he’s presumably happier wherever he is now (or at least not unhappy, which is as much as one can ask for.) I’m envisioning a landscape made up of food dishes, catnip plants, and affectionate bricks.

I’d like to thank everybody who wrote with sympathy and support–it made both James and I feel a lot better to know we weren’t alone. It’s kind of funny–normally when a cat departs this mortal coil, it’s only missed by it’s owner, a coupla friends, and maybe the vet. In this case, it was really touching to know that so many people were gonna miss hearing Loki’s saga. For a cat, I guess that’s as successful as you can hope for.

It’s gonna take awhile before I get used to him not being around–you don’t have a roommate for nine years and not miss ’em!–but I’m sure we’ll recover in time. And every time I see a brick waft by on the breeze…well, that’s not gonna happen, but if it did, I’d think of Loki.