Goodbye, my dear, sweet Chevey-boy. You went to sleep today while I held and kissed you. You are no longer in pain and, if there is kitty-heaven, you can jump high and chase belled feather toys forever. And should we meet again, you can roll on the floor and bonk your head in greeting, and we can play another game of peek-a-boo – and you will win, as always. The joy of having had you in my life will soon relieve the deep sadness I now feel for having lost you. Sleep well, my sweet, sweet boy.