This is Max. My wife and I rescued him from a farm when he was four months old. After more than 13 years, tonight, I fear, may be his last on this Earth. This morning he lost bladder control and, although he is resting comfortably and does not appear to be in any pain, he is no longer eating or drinking and can't seem to walk at all.

Having spent his formative months in relative squalor, he did not have the best start in life and has been a fairly nervous (and let's be honest, grumpy) little guy for most of his life. If I could have chosen a life for him, it would have been on the lap of an old lady who lived alone. As it happened, he got adopted by a couple of world travelers instead and spent his retirement years surrounded by the dreaded posse of Cats and children. Yet for all he had to overcome in his life, he has done remarkably well and deserves the best in the next one.

There is little we can do now except wait and hope that he goes peacefully.