
Aliss, the maddest cat I've known, died here at home half an hour ago. Whatever ailed her took its final hold this afternoon and evening: she knew, we knew, and what remains of the tribe knew that her time was up.
She took up residence on the carpet against the sofa; we've sat up with her to the end, which came quickly: a brief convulsion, she arched her back, and was gone.
Quite why we should lose three of our family in less than three months, and to three unrelated causes, I don't know. Enough now.
We're having a small whiskey each, in remembrance, before going to bed: I'll be out digging a hole in the morning, cutting through the frost to give her body back to the Earth.
Goodbye Aliss; you were loved, and you are and will be missed.