She's gone.

This morning I had two cats, this afternoon I have no way of explaining to Beatrice where her sister has gone.

Emily took a tumble and then limped off to hide in the spare room. When it became clear she was in agony it was off to the vet with an emergency appointment. An x-ray revealed a broken leg, the result not only of the tumble but also the advanced tumour at the top of her femur. The vet said the word 'amputation' but I could tell she didn't mean it.

'What is the best for Emily?' I asked.

After fifteen years Emily is gone.

Beatrice is sitting on my bed crying in confusion. She is not the only one.