Last night about 10pm our cat Zippy began seizing and gasping for breath. I held him as Laura stroked him and uttered soothing words. Eventually his breathing returned to normal. I laid him down on a cushion in the bedroom, where he remained conscious but quiescent.
Shortly afterwards we turned out the light and went to bed, but no sooner had we settled down to sleep than we perceived Zippy moving. I turned on the light just in time to see Zippy totter over to his favorite bath mat. He heaved himself down on the mat, took one last gasping breath, and died.
While he was still warm, Laura combed out his fur until it shone with smoothness. This morning I wrapped him in a few of my old shirts (Zippy always loved the smell of my shirts), and set him in the hole in the yard along with his brush, a favorite toy, and some catnip. I tossed a handful of dirt and left the rest for Listo.
Zippy's been with us almost fifteen years, through four different cities. I'll miss him, but I'm happy that he is now at peace.