Goodbye, Silvius

It's just about a month since Copper died, and here we are again, somewhat sooner than expected, with Silvius. We knew he was ill, of course, and this morning I noticed him looking far worse than previously; first thing, he was crouched down on the floor by E's bed, and then by mid morning he was lying on the landing, looking really rough. His gums were a nasty shade of blue, and when I listened to his heart, it sounded terrible. So I made him comfortable on E's bed, and stayed with him for a bit, but although he patted me with his paw once or twice, I don't think he wanted me to stay with him, really, not being a dog. So I went downstairs and began chopping up oranges for marmalade, going up to check on him from time to time. I hadn't expected the orange peel to spread over quite so much of the kitchen - it went everywhere. It seemed very strange to do something so homely and cheerful when I knew he was dying, but equally life goes on, and really if he didn't want me to stay with him, I might just as well be making marmalade as anything else. Anyway, between two of my visits he slipped away - I heard him yowl once, and his breathing was getting more irregular - and then he wasn't there any more. No matter how many dead animals I see, I never get used to how empty their bodies are, once they've died, especially if I know them.
E was dreadfully upset, of course, as he almost lived in her room: she cuddled him and cried, and decided she'd like his ashes back, so that's what we're doing. I've cleaned most of the cat litter debris away now, and it's nice to be rid of all those little gritty bits over the bathroom floor, although of course I feel dreadfully guilty for thinking so.