Last summer my 10 year old Burmese-cross Missey, started suffering from diarrhoea and quickly lost a lot of weight. She was a tiny little thing anyway so there was a not of weight to lose. I took her to the vet who prescribed antibiotics. After much nursing and boiling of chicken pieces (not a fun task for a veggie!) to feed her instead of the usual Asda kitteh food she seemed to get better. She put weight back on and got back to her normal noisey, bossey self. But then over the Christmas hols she had a relapse. I took her to the vets again but the steroids they prescribed this time round seemed to just make her worse. It was the worse decision I have ever had to make but there was no alternative but to have her put to sleep. Now my bedroom wall (and desk at work) is plastered with pictures of Missey and my other three kittehs that I still have, and last month I got my first tattoo, ie, the name Missey in large black letters on my left forearm. I think quite a lot of people think I have had some sort of mental breakdown, especially my supervisor at work who I cried at near- hysterically down the phone at when I called to tell her I couldn't come in that day. I cant believe that it has been 16 weeks since then. I miss her everyday and still feel guilty, I know rationally there wasn't anything more I could have done but I still beat up myself up on a weekly basis. It just hurts so bad.