Aw. I am sad. Here's an email from my mom alerting everyone to the death of the last remaining family pet that lived at my parents' house while I was living there too. She was a little tortoiseshell cat we named Thermos, and she was 15 years old:

We helped Thermos pass on today, so that she can pursue voles in the next
dimension. She wasn't pursuing any in this dimension -- she couldn't really
walk any more, couldn't digest food, and had become very quiet in the last
day or two.

Thermos was an excellent cat. She stuck to her own rules and maintained her
own domain. She had many favorite places around the outside of the house
and was a deadly hunter. In the last year or so she decided to sleep on a
pillow just behind and above our own pillows, so that she watched over us as
we slept. Sometimes she put a paw on my head. I've always felt that the
best thing she did was teach Debl how to teach a kitten how to eat solid
food.

(It's true, I did.)