I fell sick with strep throat today...

I couldn't go to school...

Last night, my mom talked to my grandparents about our cat, Maverick, nicknamed Mavi, because she was worried about the fact that he'd been drinking a lot of water and growing extremely skinny.

He's a Ragdoll, about 8 years old, and one of the most lovable, and loving, felines on the planet.

I went with her to take him to the vet.

A few hours later, we were heading to the doctor's office about my throat when we got the call.

He has kidney disease.

I asked my mom what they were going to do about it.

To my grief-stricken horror, she replied that there wasn't anything they COULD do about it.

Hot tears filled my eyes, and when we reached the hospital, I was only able to stay in the waiting room for a few minutes before I went looking for the bathroom, too proud to cry in front of the rest of the patients.

When I found it, I stood in front of the sink for about twenty minutes crying my heart out and blowing my already-running-due-to-illness nose. Thankfully, no one else was in the bathroom, or came in during the process.

I went back to the waiting room after I'd regained my composure and played Sudoku on my cell phone to try to keep my thoughts off the matter.

When I finally got home, my mom left to pick up my prescriptions from CVS and Mavi from the vet.

I took my little Pomeranian, Nicki, on a walk around my neighborhood as it was beginning to drizzle.

The song Untitled by Simple Plan (also titled: How Could This Happen to Me) came up on my mp3 player, and when the chorus started, I couldn't take it.

I dropped to my knees on the now-damp street and began crying really hard again.

As I did, a lightning bolt flashed overhead, and thunder rumbled, and the rain poured down.

Was Mother Nature also crying with me? Did she realize the heartbreak I was going through?

I don't know if any of you have ever felt this way: knowing your pet, one of your dearest companions, was doomed to die before their time came. Being only 8, Mavi still has about half his life left, but with this illness, it probably cuts that little lifespan down to about 10-25% of the original.

My History teacher told me he hates cats, so I had told him not too long ago that I'd bring Mavi in to show him, and he'd love him so much that he'd want a cat of his own.

He's sitting in my lap as I type this, completely unaware of the horrible fate he's heading straight towards. My other cat, Clementine, seems to know something's wrong with him; she's been hanging around him a lot recently, and they can't usually stay in the same room without fighting.

Oh my God... he's giving me his little love treatment, putting a paw on my hand and resting his head on my arm.

Dearest Lord, please let him stay with us; he doesn't deserve something like that.

I'm starting to cry again...

Mavi knows my grief; he's just given me a little meow to say: "Don't cry... please don't cry..."

I can't help it...I don't want him to leave me... I don't ever want him to leave me...

I know it's selfish to think that, but he's one of my best friends... he's our little lion of the house, with his little ruff standing out like a mane, and his beautiful blue eyes silently giving everyone 'the business', especially our dog.

The other day, a friend of mine threatened to use him as a tetherball... I wonder how he's gonna react when he hears the news...

I'll miss him... sooo much...

Mavi...

I love you...