A heartfelt Thank You!!!

...to all of you who commented on my last post. Your support and understanding helped me a lot.
By now, I've reached the stage where thinking of Cornelius doesn't make me cry any more, but smile. He did, after all, have a wonderful life with lots of love and very little stress, and the fact that I could be there for him when he died does, in the end, make it easier for me to cope with the fact that he left me far too soon. He wasn't even eleven yet. But better this way -- i.e. no illness, no endless trips to the vet, no pain -- than drawn-out suffering, ending in a last trip to the vet's.
When I took Rambo to be neutered, on December 12, I'd agreed with the vet to take Cornelius as well, because his teeth had to be fixed, and I wanted a complete blood test -- from age 10 on, this is what ought to be done every year, mostly to make sure the kidneys are ok. Which they weren't, in Cornelius' case; it was just the beginning of the usual kidney problems most older cats have, and therefore not overly alarming. For the time being, the doctor said, giving him heart-strengthening pills should easily do the trick. Fortunately giving Cornelius pills had never been a problem (with Lucius or, god forbid, Lola, I'd end up as minced meat), and so he took his one pill a day like a good boy. Still, I was observing him closely, and it was fairly evident that 1) his liquid intake was still too high, and 2) his breathing was the slightest bit laboured. (Not audibly, but visibly -- the rising and falling of his flanks was a bit more pronounced.)
Having nothing to do at work proved to be a good thing, for on January 2 I called the vet to ask him whether I was being paranoid or not, and he said, "Look, there's nothing going on here, so if you have time, grab Cornelius and just come." So that's what I did, and the blood test was much, much better than in December. However, we also did an X-ray, and while the heart's size was perfectly normal, he pointed out that the pulmonary artery was looking as if there might be a slight anomaly.
Had Cornelius been human there would've been surgery. But you don't do that sort of surgery on a cat, and besides, even if I'd had the possibility I would have declined. So much trauma and stress for an uncertain result -- it's just not worth it.
So I suppose that what ended Cornelius' life was either a heart attack or a pulmonary embolism. And while not the peaceful death I would've wanted for him, it was at least quick -- it can't have lasted more than a minute, maybe two; it's difficult to say in retrospect. I tried to help him breathe, but when I saw that it was useless, I just held and stroked him until it was over.
I have no idea whether cats do or don't still recognize a dead fellow cat as such, and whether they're still able to identify it by its smell, but on the whole I daresay it was a good thing not to keep Lucius and Rambo away from him, but let them see and sniff him. (Lola didn't come near the bed.)
What was also very lucky was that Janine, the notorious night owl, was still awake and came over right away. Of course one has to bear one's sadness, shock and pain alone, but a comforting presence does help.
Although already cooling, Cornelius' body was still warm and soft, and I couldn't bring myself to put it between the windows where it would've been cool -- even knowing rationally that he was dead, it seemed a terrible thing to do, to put him in a cold place. So I put him on a towel and in the bathtub, and closed the shower screen. That way the others couldn't get to him, and he was resting in a place he liked, because brushing (which he loved) always took place in the bathtub.
I finally fell asleep around 5 a.m. and woke at 7 -- that was probably the most horrible moment, when everything came back to me, and I knew it hadn't been a bad dream. I don't think I've ever felt so tired, body, mind and soul, so heavy and almost unable to move. Still, I had to feed the trio and clean their toilets, and then to call the vet, because they had to take care of the body.
Taking Cornelius there was also horrible, and taking him out of the bag and giving him to the assistant (who is a lovely, wonderful girl and behaved in the sweetest, most considerate way possible) maybe even more so. When I'd stopped crying I walked home -- the fresh air and cold did have a somewhat beneficial effect.
As for Lucius, Lola and Rambo, I'm not quite sure yet how things are going to play out.
Fortunately, Lucius and Rambo do have a close bond, although not as close as either of them used to have with Cornelius. But at least they're not alone; there's sparring, and running, and sleeping next to each other. Both are eating normally, which is good, because Lucius is thin and Rambo still growing. Also, they have me, and they make ample use of it.
Lola, that antisocial monster, certainly doesn't feel the loss; what might take effect, at some point in time, is the realization that 2 vs. 1 is less threatening than 3 vs. 1. What is causing me great worries, however, is her behaviour towards Rambo, and the lack of change therein. I'd hesitate to call it "aggressive", because hissing isn't aggressive but defensive, but OTOH she actively seeks him out to back him into corners, and then hiss and bat at him. I know it's a horrible thing to say, and I *do* feel ashamed of even thinking it, but if I had a possibility of giving her away, I would. Her social intelligence is nonexistent, and I'm sure she would be much, much happier being a single cat. I'll continue to monitor the situation, and if nothing changes I'm going to ask Klaus whether he'd take her. Or maybe Irene. Both want to get a cat eventually, and I would of course pay for any necessary adaptations in their respective flats (mainly cat-proofing the windows, and in Klaus' case also the balcony).

So this is it. Other stuff -- not that there's anything exciting -- will have to wait until a later post.