Unfortunately, this interlude has to go on.

Yesterday, my cat died. Okay, I have to correct myself, he had an apoplectic insult and then was paraplegic waist down at about 12:30. My mom was in shock and didn't know what to do, but she drove him to a vet, where she was told that he had to get to a clinic in Piding immediately. There, a neurologist examined him and told my mom that he had heart valve failure. Probably all his life, but this time something happened. And he also said that she could either save him from all the pain he would experience if she wouldn't let the doc euthanise him, or that she could waste a lot of money for the cat, see him lose his hind legs, help him pee every single time he has to and in the end have him die anyways.
She decided to do the former, because we really love him, and just let him go, spare him the pain.

My grandpa took me into the living room while I was reading my Mickey Mouse, as I do every Friday. I thought he wanted to tell me that I shouldn't say this or that ever again ad he always does, but he wrapped his arm around me and told me that Felix is dead.
I started crying, locked myself into the bedroom, then threw up three times and finally calmed down again.
I tell you, drawing is the most comforting thing you can do. I drew a picture in red and black and wrote LIFE on it. And one in beautiful colors, with DEATH. I love those two paintings.
And I drew Felix.

Just to warn you, I don't want to talk about him too much, I know he is well now, I felt he feels good tonight, because he was here. He was at my bed, in my dreams, he is always with me.

Sleep well, my friend. I'll always love you.

R.I.P. Felix