When you have an old cat, and it gets sick and dies, you sort of expect it. You see it age, and slow, and then the day comes when you realize it's time to see the vet for the last time. But when you have a young seemingly vigorous cat like Cuffy, its an outrage to have to have them put down. He had stopped eating because his mouth hurt. There was nothing that could be done in that direction, except keep him alive a little longer, and that wasn't fair to him, or us.
But it's damned hard to wrap your head around the idea of losing such a beautiful cat, and so young. He had three good solid years here, which is three more than he would have had where he came from. So, there is that. He got to sleep on the porch, and in all the chairs, and had his pick of the cupboard for snacks.
I miss the hell out of him.