I once lived in a flat which was squatted permanently by the neighbours cat.

He was a cutey. Old, yet with the fastest paws I've ever seen (and devilish claws to boot)

Anyway, what seemed like a gradually worsening case of fur balls in the windpipe turned out to be a larynx tumor which explained his silent, seemingly mimed mews.

I took him to the vet where he was pronounced inoperable and at deaths door.

I made the decision to have him put down as he lay in a (sorry) catatonic state on the operating table.

I then wrote a letter to the neighbours explaining what had happened and they asked for the body so he could be buried in their garden.

They hed been under the impression that he had already died some years previously as they hadn't seen him for that long, due to his taking up residence on the kitchen floor of the flat I was living in.