It's going to be hard to muster up the usual festive Christmas spirit this year.
On Thursday, we took our cat Milo to the vet after he started showing signs of weight loss and weakness. The diagnosis was kidney failure. The vet told us the end was coming fast and that we should consider having him put to sleep.
This was all too sudden for us, and I held out some hope that the vet might be wrong.
After receiving subcutaneous fluids and a B12 shot, Milo was at least comfortable enough to come back home with us. By Friday night, though, it was clear he was deteriorating. He had no strength in his back legs, was refusing to eat or drink, and could do little except lay in his bed.
Saturday morning brought the first outward signs of pain, as he contorted his back and gasped for breath. None of us wanted to see him suffer, so we said our tearful goodbyes before my wife bravely took him to the vet.
My son is taking it particularly hard. Milo was his sleeping companion for the past four years, always patiently waiting in his room each night while my son brushed his teeth and went through the bedtime rituals.
That cat wouldn't sleep with anybody else. And he always took the same spot at the end of the bed. But as soon as I said goodnight and turned off the lights, Milo would curl up next to my son's head, purring loudly in his ear like a fluffy orange sound machine.
After a few hours, usually around midnight, he would come into my office and jump into my lap, watching me type away on the keyboard and offering an occasional meow as criticism. I always looked forward to these nightly visits, really the only time of the day when he would sit quietly with me for a long period of time.

Milo was just a cat. But for us he was a special part of the family for 13 years. He and his brother were our babies before we had real ones. Milo was a quirky, stubborn, lovable fur ball whose absence is now very clearly felt.
It's going to be awhile before my heart is clear of the Death and Sadness that visited us this weekend. With only five days before Christmas, it looks like this season might be a wash for me.
But for the kids, I'm going to fake it. I'll wear my Santa hat, pour huge mugs of egg nog, put a cheery smile on my face, and sing along with Michael Caine in The Muppet Christmas Carol.
Mostly, though, I'll be missing Milo.
