When my first wife and I separated around 1980, of the four cats we had, I took Floxy (who had been sick for some time). I brought her to an animal veterinarian, who kept her for a week or two to watch her condition, which he said was diabetes. He also told me that when Floxy came home, I would need to test the cat’s urine with litmus paper each morning to determine how much medicine she would need. Then I would have to inject the medicine into the skin below the back of her head. (Cats don’t have feeling in that area). The vet told me to buy some syringes and practice injecting them (filled with water) into orange skins. I got a big supply of needles and practiced as instructed. I really didn’t want to have to test and inject the cat every day for the rest of her life. Who wants to do that? But since my ex-wife was working and I wasn’t at the time, I was the better choice as to who could be home to monitor and take care of the cat’s condition. The first day home from the vet, Floxy’s litmus test showed her to be normal! I called the vet, who was surprised because the cat wasn’t like that in the hospital. He told me not to inject her. That concerned me, not really knowing much about diabetes. I didn’t want to be responsible for my cat dying on me because of neglect. The same test result occurred the following day. Again, the vet told me to hold off on the shot. It ended up that Floxy didn’t need any injections at all! I wasn’t praying for this to happen. I just 'surrendered' to the whole situation, and let things be. But the cat was losing weight. Her stomach used to almost touch the floor, but as the days went by, that wasn’t the case anymore. She wasn’t eating. She only ate a normal amount once or twice, although I tried giving her some “treats”. One day, I talked to her. I told her if she chose to die, that was her choice. Floxy had been a very independent cat – not very friendly, at least, to me. But she got sweeter as she got weaker. On day, as I was reading a passage from Paul Twitchell’s "Stranger By the River" - a very beautiful, poetic book filled with spiritual insights - Floxy came over to me at the coach. But she didn't have the energy to even jump a foot or two to get herself up. I had to help her onto the coach. She felt so light! She nestled next to my side, which was rare! The passage in the book read, “Can you think of life to be no more than what it is this moment?” I realized that Foxy, who was about seven, didn’t have to live the normal life span of a cat for me to love her. It’s what’s in your heart that really counts, not the amount of time spent with another! I had tears because I knew she wasn’t going to be with me much longer. I called my ex-wife to come over and see the thin condition that the cat was in. I felt that it was time to put the cat to sleep, even though I had no experience with this sort of thing - never having had an animal as a kid. Seeing Floxy’s bony condition, my ex agreed that we should let the cat go. We called the vet to make the appointment for a day of two later... When I put Floxy in a box to bring her to the Vet, I said to her, “I love you.” This was perhaps the first time I had ever said this to her. I happened to look over at my living room clock and saw that it was 11:19, my birth date (Nov. 19)! Over at the vet’s office, Floxy looked glassy-eyed within a few seconds of the vet’s injection. It was strange to see life, and then it’s gone! But I knew that soul lives forever... takes on a new body, and continues with It’s lessons of giving and receiving love. I met Floxy later in a dream. She came over to me and told me (by way of telepathy) that she was happy.