I just got home this evening from work and it was the first time that Stan wasn't sitting at the window waiting for me.

I have had the honour and pleasure to have been adopted by Stan about 5 years ago. Because he arrived as an adult - I am not sure how old he was, but reckon about 12 years.

What a lovely, happy, friendly character. Stan really became integral to my life - understanding when I was sad, snuggling up and being a lovely furry hot water bottle, insisting on sleeping on my chest in the evening until he thought I had drifted off to sleep, "talking" to me when he couldn't figure out where I was in the house.

The last 6 months weren't the best for Stanley health-wise. He had one big scare in June when he landed up with almost no white blood cells. Several rounds of antibiotics managed to sort him out, but it was a scare. He had a bit of an apparent infection 2 months ago which he managed to fight off without medication. I wasn't sure if it was related to the June health scare.

Then a week ago he slowed down eating. This was not uncommon, as Stan had very, very picky tastes. Eventually I couldn't tempt him with some of his favourites - so I took him to the vet on Friday. The vet examined him, couldn't find anything obviously wrong with him - apart from his lungs didn't sound great and suggested that maybe he had some virus that was caused to flare up by stress. Sounded plausible. I went home with Stan, I was armed with some cat food that was given to ill cats and if he wasn't better by today to bring him back in.

Stan still didn't eat (although I was feeding him small amounts of nutritional supplement) and was starting to have noticeable issues breathing. I went back to see vet number 2 on Sunday and explained everything - including that he hadn't had anything more to eat. She had a look at him and said that she could see his breathing was laboured - but couldn't hear anything in his lungs. She noticed he had a low temperature, gave him an antibiotic jab and said that they could keep him in - but all they would do is monitor his temperature and breathing and keep him warm. I thought it better to take him back to familiar surroundings as I could monitor him and there seemed nothing gained by leaving him there.

I took him home but he got worse and by Monday morning couldn't lie down. I took him to see vet number 3 yesterday. I tried to get myself ready for worst case scenario. Vet number 3 made a bit more of an accurate diagnosis by jabbing a syringe into Stan's side and extracting fluid. He also took blood, and it was then when I remembered why I had hoped that it wasn't vet number 3 on call. He had taken blood from Stan before and had really hurt him. And it seems that his technique hadn't changed. I heard poor Stan yowl and when they brought him back the vet said that he had been a bit traumatised - he was really struggling to breathe. I sat with Stan for 15 minutes while the blood was processed and tried to calm him down.

The results were presented in a way that didn't seem that bad. It wasn't a liver problem, but was most likely a heart problem. The plan was to give him a diueretic drip to reduce the fluid and when that started working this would reduce the pressure on his lungs and alimentary canal and he would most likley start eating. The cardiac issue didn't seem that big a deal when I asked. It could easily be treated by medication.

So - I hardly said goodbye to Stan before he was whisked away - but I thought at last, someone knows what is wrong with him and it seems like there is light at the end of the tunnel, and these are the experts I am sure they will treat my poor, obviously stressed and ailing cat kindly. The vet had certainly been positive when he described the treatment to me. I drove home much happier than I when I went.

Unfortunately - when I got home I got a phone call to say that Stan had died. It was a bit unclear as to exactly how and when I specifically asked - I was told it was stress related (but not a heart attack). "But its ok - at least we know what was wrong with him" (his heart).

I was too upset and shocked to really register what the vet had said (and respond that knowing what was wrong with him was of no use to me now) and after a bit of time I started feeling that Stan may not have had the best treatment at the vets. I know I am really upset and may be looking to take my hurt and anger out on someone, but I don't understand why it took so long to diagnose him - or really to do anything more than monitor him. But I also have this horrible fear that vet number three, who was good at diagnosis, did not have the best needle abilities and it may have been when trying to put the drip in that freaked poor, lovely Stan out and he died as a result.

I know I am surmising - and he was gravely ill (I am sure he would have died if I had just kept him at home monitoring him), but I now feel I let poor Stan down. If only I had insisted on staying with him until they settled him (and I am not sure if they would have let me) or insisted on more agressive treatment earlier. I didn't even get to say a proper goodbye.

I don't know whether to put any of this in a letter to the vet or whether just not to go back to that vet should I get another pet.

It won't bring Stan back and I miss him dreadfully.