It's only been four days since my parents had to help my twin, your owner, give you mercy. I'm still feeling a little guilty. I wish I could've kept you when my twin moved out with her family, but with the way you and Kravitz kept trying to steal each other's food, and had those little spats, it just wasn't feasible.
I wish I could've found you another home; one that could have afforded regular vet visits. Maybe they would've caught whatever sickness took you, or at least seen it coming and made your last days as comfortable as possible. But I felt guilty for even thinking about it because you weren't my cat and it wasn't my call to make. I should've ignored that; should've tried harder.
Oh, Maddie. You dear, owl-faced, pretty girl with the softest fur in the world. I'm sorry your life ended after only ten years, but I'm glad I knew you for about three of 'em. I'm glad you warmed up to me and knew you could trust me, and flopped against my shoulder to snuggle in bed. And I'm glad you're not sick or hurting anymore and you're at the Rainbow Bridge, where there are no crates or snow; the two things you hated most.
Find a fluffy cushion in a big, fat sunbeam, and rest easy with all the other family pets who got there before you did. You earned it.