I got a call today from work. It's my day off. Orangie is not feeling well at all today. They found him in his litter pan crying and not able to move.

Orangie was walking around yesterday, playing and loving on everyone that went past him.

I walk into work, they are unable to get enough serum from his blood to run some internal organ screening. What serum is there, is bright yellow. This is not good.

I sat there and held him for a bit, asking him if he was tired and thought it was time. It was. He did give me his signature face rub *what he could give me* and purred a bit when I walked in the room and scooped him into my arms. He just wanted to be held, to be loved for some time more. I was the only one at work that would let him sit on my shoulder when I did my morning rounds, and hold him up to my face and give him all the hugs and kisses he could stand.

It was fast, painless. He was gone in a moment. It was private. It was just me and Orangie. Brad was there to help me with the catheter and support.

I get his ashes back in a few weeks. To add to my growing stack of "All the cats I've ever known and loved." After all, Orangie only had me to love him. I know I did the kindest thing for him. I'm upset I coudln't do more.

I know Scott will tell me, "In a few days his spirit will run off to go and get reincarnated". I don't know. I still like the idea of the "Rainbow Bridge". I like the idea when I go, all of the cats Ive ever known and loved will greet me and we would all run off together.