I'm in a deep, deep funk.

I took Miss Moggie, my four-moth old kitten, to the vets on Monday
because she needed to be bathed/groomed/dewormed-fleas-mites, etc.
Also, she had become listless with no energy.

The vet said she was okay on Tuesday.

I was set to pick up my little love tomorrow morning, and I got a call
from the vet this morning telling me she had died.

According to the vet, she was born with a defect in her heart, and she
suffered a heart attack this morning.

She's buried in my garden next to the ocean.

I went through this with Sir Percy Cat in the late 90s. I don't know
if I can do it again, even though the the breeder who sold me to her
said that he would give me another cat.

Why am I telling you this? I've met and known some of you for over
eight years.