She's gone.

Pain and confusion was in her eyes.  We always regarded her as 'The Kitten'.  Innocence and fun and love in a striped coat.  But her eyes yesterday and today were old and sad and full of pain.  She was thin.  She moved slowly and clumsily.  Her coat was staring.  Another dose of meds made no difference.

I wonder if once Richard went into care her destiny had been fulfilled and she could go home again.  Dementia made Richard's caresses clumsy, sometimes although unintentially, rough.  Natalia never wavered.  Always purring, always glad to see him, never avoiding that heavy hand.  Even until the end she loved him and showed it.

I tried to tell Richard about her problems a week ago but he seemed to have lost the thread.  If he asks, she will be fine but I don't think he will.  He is more and more disconnected from reality. 

I have buried her in the yard.  When and if the black walnut tree seed sprouts, I will plant it there, a fitting monument to a wonderful cat.