When I had to move out of my home four years ago ( due to unfortunate circumstances ) the hardest thing for me was giving up my pets. The oldest one a beautiful black and grey tabby that I had named Bellisama,and who we actually called bliss or Belle for short,my brother agreed to take in. I knew she would not settle away from her beloved woods and fields. So I have seen her on a regular basis. when I have gone for my walks if she was out she would come with me. Other wise I made sure I visited her on a regular basis. Contrary to popular opinion they dont forget,and no matter how long it was between visits I still got the same loving greeting as I always had. Today I got a frantic phone call and after having a word with the boss I flew round to the vets to meet my brother. Bliss had been hit by a car,she had tried to struggle back home despite being severly injured. I held her while the vet looked but to no avail,she laid and looked at me and gave a little meow and then she was gone. She was ten years old,and she never would learn that as she had got older she had got slower. She was a perpetual kitten. I have missed her since she went to my brothers but have always had the thought that when I got a house she would come back. Now I know thats never going to happen. I know that in the grand scheme of things the death of my Bliss might not mean much to others,but right now it means a hell of a lot to me.