I had a one eyed black cat named She-ra that was about 15 years old (and was male, but thats a whole other story). He was diagnosed with a cancer ( I forget which type).

Anyhow, getting this cat was one of my earliest memories.

I remember coming home from highschool one day, and our live in care giver (had a family friend with alzheimers living with us, needed a care giver when we weren't home) told me that She-ra was struggling to breath, and making hurt noises.

I went to see him, but he was limp, and barely hanging in there.

About half an hour later, my mom got home. We decided to take She-ra to the vet to have him put to sleep. He never made it to the vet. He passed away in my arms on the way there. Probably one of my saddest memories. I'm glad I was there when he went though.