I'm crying as I type this. I can remember just like it was yesterday... I was 10. My dad came home from work and told us that a co-worker's farm cat had kittens and we were welcome to have one. I was ecstatic. We went to the farm; and there they were. These adorable little kitties prancing around. Bean was rambunctious. I found her hanging for dear life on a wooden board - having the time of her life. I knew she was "the one." She was so playful from the moment we brought her home. She pestered our other cat - bringing out the kitten in her as well. Often times, after a little roll and batting at each other, they could be found snuggled on the chair together. As a kitten, Bean was independent - a free spirit. As she got older, she became a cuddle bug. She often cozied herself on top of my legs once she realized I had a specific blanket on. She was vocal, greeted me at the door, and came when I whistled. She was a 16lb of pure love. I was in the 4th grade when I got Bean. She moved with our family from NY to RI; RI to KY... once I came back from college, she moved from KY to OH with me. She lived with me during my first time ever living alone. She saw me through many break ups. Then, she saw me through a marriage, another move, a baby, yes another move, and yet another baby. When Bean was 17, she was diagnosed with kidney failure. After years of routine ultrasounds and invasive urine samples, and a difficult conversation with her vet, I decided I couldn't put Bean through the trauma of the medical procedures again. She had such a wonderful, long life - I hated making her spend any single moment of that in a traumatic car ride or scary vet visit. I stopped bringing her to the vet for the monitoring. I was dedicated to making sure Bean lived a safe, happy, peaceful life. At 20, Bean started losing weight. She was still full of life and energy.. often found standing her ground with the other cats or being first in line for a fresh chicken treat in the kitchen. I slowly began to realize her hearing was gone. But she still loved affection, treats, being by an open window... Bean turned 21 in April, 2010. It began with a limp. I brought her water and gave her fresh tuna. It seemed she was nursed back to health. I allowed her to come out on the deck with me. She loved the fresh air. Then it happened. This morning, a week later, as I was sitting on the couch, I saw Bean try to walk away from the screen door. She collapsed on the floor. I could see her belly moving, so knew she was breathing. I kept my eye on her. A few moments later, I went to give her some love... and I found her with her mouth partially open, slowly gasping for air. I knew it was the end. The end of my time with my sweet, sweet kitty Bean. I brought her to my bed where I pet her and talked to her. I thanked her for such a wonderful life. I kissed her for my family who were not there to say their goodbyes. I sobbed for her. My husband and daughters brought us to the vet. The doctor said it was a matter of moments for things to happen naturally. I chose to end Bean's pain... to end her suffering. And as she lay in my lap, I pet her soft, soft fur and whispered in her ear that it was OK for her to go. I miss her so much. My heart feels broken. I love my Bean so very very much...