yesterday my cat passed away. He was a 23-year-old kitten. He was a hungry, stranded stray at 16 years and was living under our house shortly after being hit on the road. We took him in, fed him, expecting the worst, but for us he marched through another 9 years and he loved me like no pet had loved me before. Every time I walked into the room he would look at me and meow, every time I went to sleep he'd come over to me and say goodnight. And now I realize I needed him more than he needed me--and I believe he stuck through and hid his pain for me. I went to bed the night before thinking he'd be there in the morning but when I woke up to the empty cat cage I knew he was gone. I cried so hard and loud and now I keep seeing his sweet face in my head and I don't know what to do