On Saturday, July 8th, 2006, at 5:33 p.m., my cat Pixel decided it was time to walk through one last wall. Although I miss him terribly, I am sure the he is enjoying his new journey, reunited with his old friend Tup. He was approximately 17 years old. 

We had noticed that his health was steadily declining over the last few months. Pixel continued to lose weight, which is shocking considering how little he weighted normally as he was a malnourished runt-of-the-litter when he was found and given to us. He normally weight about four to four and a half pounds. In the end he was just over three pounds. He was a small cat. 

Then Saturday morning we noticed that he was having trouble walking and moving and just looked unwell. He lay in my lap or on my chest for the most part of the day with small breaks of lying in the sun and going outside to lie on the warm grass for a few minutes. By mid-afternoon he couldn’t stand anymore. I talked to him, pet him, and kept him warm until his little frame gave a few shudders and he left. 

We took him out to the farm and laid him to rest beside his old friend Tup, our Lhasa Apso. It’s a nice sunny spot in the trees. As is our tradition we gave him some tuna, water, his water dish, for his journey and wrapped him in a pillow case as he liked to sleep on pillows. 

As we were saying our good-byes, we reflected on what will miss most about Pixel. Sandy will miss how he walked across the tops of door frames, I will miss his ability to appear in your lap as if by magic, Kieran will miss how he was always there for you, and Aleksander will miss how he always made you feel good. 

I am surprised and humbled by the size of emptiness I’m feeling. A pet can become so much more, they are family. He was not just Pixel, a black cat; he was a member of our family. So, I ask that if you were one of the lucky few that were honoured with a visit from Pixel to your lap, lift a glass to our friend Pixel and toast his memory and his continued journey.