This wasn't the sad but somehow peaceful scene like what happened with Stormy--this was sudden and unexpected and there was no time to say goodbye. Up to then Nat had been fine-- eating and sleeping and meowing and being herself. She may have been a tiny bit quieter today, but I'm just guessing, who knows? The vet at the emergency place said they couldn't tell what happened, but it could have been anything from a seizure to heart failure. It was over in seconds, and I have no idea how or why and I probably never will. I could have asked for an autopsy, but what would be the point? I keep feeling guilty even though I know I'm being stupid because she was loved and fed and petted and cared for.
And now I've lost two cats in less than a week. WTF, God?
I can't remember a time when there wasn't a cat in my life.