Our hearts are beyond broken.  We walk around this extra empty house like zombies.  The littlest body in our home had the biggest presence, and we don't want to accept that she's gone.  It's hard to write this without her squished in here by my side.  We both break down in tears without warning, especially with all the reminders scattered around.  Her mom is beating herself up with guilt at our having taken that damn vacation.  What few pleasant family visits and activities we did enjoy aside, had we known we'd have so little time with Cleo we'd never have gone away.  The battle between her kidney disease and her anemia alone was too much for her tiny 18-year-old  body to bear.  The final report from MedVet, though realistic, gave us some hope that we might have as much as a couple of weeks with our dear girl.  When we brought her home Monday evening and lifted her from her carrier only to see that she could barely keep her legs under her we knew differently.  She struggled to walk even a few steps on the hardwood floors throughout this place, her weak hind legs sliding out from under her.  We set Carpet padding and drop cloths all over to make it easier for her.  We confined our three selves to one bedroom with food & water, mattress on the floor & her litter box and all the bedding and padding she could want.  By Tuesday morning we knew.  4 Paws Farewell helped her pass peacefully and painlessly that afternoon out on the sun-warmed stone steps where she loved to spend so much time. Dr. Beth picked a red rose from one of our bushes, placing it beside Cleo.  I still move over to one side in this chair as was habit to make room for her when we posted in the early morning hours.  The daily routines with Cleo will likely remain forever in her heartbroken mom's memory.  There are reminders everywhere, and as painful as it is, we want to keep it that way for now.  I'm crying again looking at the photos I'm about to post from her last day with us.  Yesterday morning I woke Cleo's mom, laying beside her and sobbing into her shoulder like a fool.  Today I'll get it out of my system while proofing this post and try to let her sleep.  We miss Cleo terribly and will always wonder if we might've had just a few more years with her.  Rest in Peace, our beautiful, feisty, loving stubborn Tortie Queen.  We can only hope you know that mom and dad tried their best, and we're sorry that you suffered so.  We will never forget you and the years of joy your attitude brought us.