Iheld her fragile body in my arms while tears streamed down my face. She hadn'teaten for the past week, and had become so light that the gentlest wind couldhave swept her away. Her chest rose and fell heavily, as if weights had beenplaced on her rib cage. I spoke to her softly through sobs, asking her to forgiveme for what I was about to do. She lifted her head at the sound of her name, andher eyes met mine. They looked just like my gramp's had before he died - sotired. Her trust in me shone through in that one look.

I knew I was theonly one she had ever let hold her like this. It seemed the ultimate betrayal toput her into the arms of a man who could not possibly realize the full impactthat taking her life would have.

I told her how sorry I was one lasttime, and then placed her, so gently, into the arms of that stranger. Her smallcries of confusion made me shiver. I tried to explain to her that all I wantedwas to make her pain go away, and it was not because I didn't want her anymore. Iwatched as the life left her eyes, and a part of me went, too.

I can'texplain how deeply I was affected by this experience. When I think of friends whohave lost mothers and fathers, I am almost ashamed that I am so upset.

This cat, though, was not just a pet, she was a member of my family for17 years. I got her when I was six months old and named her "KiKi" inan attempt to call her kitty. She seemed to always find me when I was sad, andher purring made the pain disappear.

There is not a moment I can rememberwhen she hasn't been in my life - until now, and it is a strange and hollowfeeling. The experience has made me understand the hardest truth I can everimagine learning: we will all die. Death will show its face to all livingcreatures, it yields to neither race nor gender. In this respect, death is theultimate unifier because we are all alike in its eyes.