Goodbye Holly

Warning - this is very soppy. If you don't like tributes to dead pets, look away now.
We took Holly to the vets on Saturday, for the third time in nine days. This time we knew that we would not be taking her home.
She was never a 'perfect' cat, at least not while we had her. She was timid and liked to hide upstairs. She hissed and growled at our other cats. She didn't like to be picked up. She was only friendly at bedtimes - when I tried to read in bed,she would jump on my chest, stick her bum in my face and purr contentedly. We would give her a pillow between us for the night where she would sleep happily - we called it 'Holly Island'. Timid,grumpy or not, she was a beautiful cat and loving in her way.
We'd known there was something wrong for a while. She started pooing on the floor, howling at nothing, dropping food from her mouth. Various vets looked at her but there was nothing obvious and we wondered if it was just senility. But a week or so ago she fell down the stairs and into a true decline. Her legs weren't working properly any more, she couldn't see pieces of ham placed in front of her face, she couldn't manage more than a tiny growl for her rivals.
She still appreciated bedtime but it was clearly her one remaining pleasure.
We took her for a scan and the results were shocking - there was a huge tumour in her brain accompanied by a couple of smaller ones. It was amazing that she could function at all and she must have been in some pain pretty much all the time. It was both an easy and hard decision to put her to sleep. For her last few days we did our best to spoil her with cuddles and food treats but she was clearly deteriorating as we watched.
So she took her final ride to the vets. In her prime she fought tooth and nail against going into the travel basket and howled in protest while in there.This time she hardly moved and made no more than a couple of whimpers. We stayed with her while she died - she just lay still and quiet while her little heart made its final beat. I cried to watch and I'm crying now to relive it. I'm not ashamed of that.
Her sister has taken to asking for cuddles at night where Holly Island used to be. I don't think it's an attempt at consolation or posthumous sibling rivalry just the feline instinct for the warmest place to be. Perhaps one night a ghostly growl will scare her away.If you can cuddle a ghost she can put her sore little head in my armpit, just like the nights of old.
Goodbye, little one.