May left us on December 16, 2023, at 22:32 in Montreal, ending her 14-year life. She had been with us for 13 years.

May was well-behaved, quiet, aloof, and always loved to chat with us. She might have been a bit clumsy compared to Cats Bambo and Dambo, but she always maintained her elegance and ladylike style.

For most of the past 13 years, May was the only cat in our family. She had boyfriends and was a mother for a short time. She moved with us several times in recent years, adapting well and calmly. Her outdoor life was limited to two occasions: once when we traveled overseas and couldn't take her, and another time when our house caught fire and we had to entrust her to a friend. I still remember her frightened eyes at that moment, she perhaps think she wouldn't live with us anymore. But after settling everything a month later, we went to pick her up, she took almost an hour to recognize us, then rushed to my daughter, jumping into her arms and clinging to her – the only time she showed nervousness in her 14 years.

May grew up with my daughter. In the human world, she was always our beautiful baby. In the cat world, she matured quickly through childhood, adolescence, youth, middle age, and elder years. She saw my daughter as her older sister, then as a younger sister, and finally as her baby-sister, treating her with great patience and affection. May would appear immediately whenever her baby-sister called her. In her view, she was always my child.

May enter to her twilight years when my daughter went to university, May belly swelled which we mistook for pregnancy. However, it was actually hydroperitoneum which putting her life at risk. The vet offered two options: euthanasia or surgery with no guarantee of survival, quoting $6,000. May was weak and losing weight, refusing food. We decided to force-feed her special nutrition, hoping she'd gain weight for surgery. We called many veterinary hospitals in Montreal for an early appointment. Thankfully, we managed to schedule the surgery, and she regained some strength. The cost was lower than the quote, and my daughter covered it with her 3 months internship salary. The surgery was successful, and May gradually regained health.

In 2019, we adopted Pug Diti and Norwegian-forest cat Bambo, hoping they would keep her company. May sometimes acted like a mother to them, other times like a stern grandmother, teaching them rules.

Diti and Bambo grew up quickly under May's warm yet stern guardianship. May appeared to be the boss, with Diti and Bambo as her cautious followers.

"Why is she always angry? Did I do something wrong?" Diti would wonder, rolling his big innocent eyes.

"You never do anything wrong," Bambo would reassure him and continue said with naughtily and innocently "Let's go out for fun!" .

This year, we welcomed three kittens – the "Snows" – into our family. May became even more majestic, perhaps feeling a greater sense of responsibility. Later, Katy and Snow were rehomed, but Dambo stayed because May was especially fond of him, and my daughter thinked that would improved May's quality of life. Their days started with different breakfasts in different room and ended with their favorite "biscuit time," full of peace and vibrancy.

Life is full of uncertainty. May's appetite diminished, and she grew thinner. We tried to support her nutritionally, hoping she would gain weight. In her last three days, she refused to eat, but she jumped to sink, only drinking flowing water from the faucet filter. The little ones played around her, but she mostly ignored them, occasionally scolding them. My daughter was busy those days, I was anxious, hoping to save May like before. I tried force-feeding her, but she mostly vomited. She clung to me and she was attached to me very much.

On her last Saturday, I had to rush to work, leaving her in her crib. She struggled to approach me, as if asking for a hug, but I had to leave. My daughter came back that afternoon, trying to feed May, but she only drank water. At 10:02 pm, May passed away. Her eyes were dark and bright, and she seemed to say, "I can't want sleep; I need to care for Diti, Bombo, and Dambo. I'm still the little beauty of this family, I want chat with my baby-sisiter, and I needing my mom's arms like in my childhood."

The life of a cat is so short, merely a dozen years for us. Yet, a cat's life is also long, having joined our family when she very young, quietly guarding us as best as she could throughout her life. She keeps herself clean and observes everything discreetly. When we need her, she stays with us without hesitation; when we are busy, she stays silent in the corner. She enjoys chatting and responds quickly; she expresses her opinions and even argues with us. She laughs when she is happy and ignores us when she is sad. How ever, its very presence imbues the world with warmth.

May, I am sure you fortunate to be a cherished member of our family, right? Mom wishes you could be my real daughter in your next life. We are waiting for you, and our love for you is eternal.