On Saturday, I came back from my latest driving lesson to be told that our cat, Pebbles, was dying. She was 22 years old, so she had a good innings, as they say. We had to take her to the vet, but he said everything was shutting down and she would be in pain, and we had to have her put down. So, we've only got one cat left now, a black Burmese psycho called Mr Pudding. He's been moping about ever since and I think he's lonely. My partner has been wondering whether to buy a kitten, but I'm not sure if Pudding would be that happy.
Very sad...