Princess was my dad's nearly 20 year old cat up until this morning. No, she did not do anything to get herself taken to the pound, nor did she run off or get hit by a car like two of our other cats. She apparently went to use the litter box as usual-being the only cat to consistently do so having earned her the right to be the only indoor cat in our house-and just dropped and never got up.
We didn't find her til she had stiffened up, but hadn't started to smell yet. My second oldest brother noticed her 'sleeping' there as he first thought she was. Both he and my youngest brother thought they could see her breathing, but upon petting her she failed to move. My second youngest brother picked her up to show that not only was she now stuck in that pose, but her eyes were still open.
Needless to say, my dad seemed okay with it, but he set me off when I got back from running to the bank to find him crying by the garbage can as he cleaned out the litter box we'd found her after burying her. Of course she was old but she was a nice cat.
And I got the check for fixing my truck-why I was running to the bank-so I needed to get tithing for my last paycheck anyway.
Work was busy, but my coworker told me it was still slow for this time of year. Need to finish Christmas shopping...