Back in May I took over full-time care of my late uncle's cats. Mama Cat (whom I added the name 'Rachel' since everyone else had a human name and I didn't want her to feel left out) was a tiny 5.9lb (underweight) stray. She showed up pregnant years ago in my uncle's barn, and had three living kittens. The kittens are eight years old now, and twice her size. All still living next door on the family property, along with two other mews.

Mama was too skinny, and then she suddenly started gaining weight. At first we (myself and the vet) were pleased. Then the vet clinic closed for nearly two weeks for vacation. Over the weekend Mama inflated like a beachball with legs. This was obviously Very Bad. Luckily my vet had recently hired a third doctor, who was on emergency duty while the clinic was closed. So I took Mama in for an exam. Got some meds, lots of tests, and a plan to see if it worked. It did not work.
Mama went to the vet this morning for her final visit. She crossed the rainbow bridge. I told her to say 'hi' to my late uncle. I didn't know her that well, but she was a good kitty. She deserved better. She was a minimum of nine years old, likely older, so she did live to "senior kitty" age.