There is a special place in heaven, where all butterflies stay right where they have landed, and taste like newly fished shrimp. Where fish swim leisurely slow and close to the surface, so that any kitten can catch them without getting her whiskers wet.
In that special place there are never any loud noises, and nothing ever changes.
It is lined with cosy radiators, covered in woolly blankets. There are wonderful warm rays of sun to lounge in, and quick little darts of light that one can dash after, if one feels like it.
Here the milk is always fresh, the humans never get up so one has to move from one's comfortable slumber. No, all laps are calm and warm. The mice have three legs so that they can run just slow enough.
There are trees with birds in them. No annoying crows that taunt cats, but sweet little chirping sparrows and succulent and lazy pigeons. The trees are just high enough to give an enterprising feline a great view, and low enough that the same feline can get down without injury.
In that wonderful place there is a new little queen.
No more pain.
No more coughing.
No more hiding away.
Rest in peace, Spitfire, sweet little one. We will miss you so.