This morning, Laurence and I made the very difficult decision to put Vashti to sleep.  Without dwelling on morbid details, I'll just say that the past few days have been very bad.  It was time.  We were both with her in the vet's office until the end.  It is a credit to both Vashti and the medical team that's been caring for her that there wasn't a single dry eye among the staff.

Vashti was 14 years old.

I've been trying to think what I would write about her that I haven't written already.  This time, though, I think Laurence put it best.  "The eternal feminine," he said.  "That's what Vashti will always be to me."

 He was quoting something acting coach Lee Strasberg said about Marilyn Monroe at her funeral.  I typically resist investing cats with too many specifically human traits, but I have to agree with Laurence that there was something distinctly and almost humanly feminine in Vashti's beauty and sweetness.  Laurence is the kind of man who's half in love with every woman simply for wielding a mascara wand, and this I think is at the heart of the wonderfully special relationship that sprang up between the two of them.  I'm feeling many things right now, but mostly I'm overwhelmingly grateful that Vashti's last few years were spent with Laurence.  I never saw her happier than she's been with him in her life.

For my own part, I can only think to say that Vashti was beautiful and gentle, and she was loved.

Next week we will bring her ashes up to the Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park and scatter them off the Palisades and into the Hudson River.  Vashti loved being outside so much, and she always especially loved the water.

Thank you to everybody for being here for us these past few months.  I'll never be able to fully express how much it's meant to me.

Vaya con dios, my beautiful, beautiful girl.

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