Today the local vet came around (after two years when you could never find him on his appointed days, so no pet could get vaccinated) and claimed he found a cat dead of rabies. They took all the local pets off to be killed, including our Princey. Interestingly enough, no attempt seems to have been made to catch any of the stray cats around. Soph and I smell a rat here, but that won't do our poor cat any good anymore.

I missed him so much tonight as I lowered the window shade and for the first time in years didn't have to chase him off the ledge. And when, after dinner, I threw out the scraps instead of going to the door and calling "here cat." B tried to tell them what had happened over the phone, since they gave us all of two hours' notice, but he used euphemisms and both P and A thought he was just going to sleep; they didn't realize he'd be murdered.

They made me catch Princey for them. 3 times. Really sounds like they were worried about rabies, doesn't it? One day I'd like to learn the real story behind this and who was behind this.

Goodbye, Princey Charming. You were a good cat.