I've just spent 45 minutes digging a hole to bury a cat who didn't belong to me but who I was privileged to call my friend. His name was Figaro, he was small, athletic, and the most intelligent cat I have ever known. He was always impeccably dressed in his tux and one expected him to say: "Bond. Figaro Bond." He was the kind of cat you spoke to as if he were another human being and he could hold up his end of the conversation. He had extensive lymphoma and died at the age of eleven, all too brief a life for such a vibrant creature. I will miss him greatly. He owned one of my best friends and as much as I will miss him, she will even more.

RIP, my friend.