Lisa and I went home for lunch. My dad cooked up hamburgers and ribs. My mom made fruit salad and a zuchini cake. Over the last few days my mom has mentioned that she’s worried about Cocoa. He hasn’t been using his litter box and he’s been acting a bit detached. Today she told me that he is missing. I immediately went outside and started looking for him. I found him under the deck. He is alive. He is lying on his belly and refuses to come out. Cocoa is 17-years-old. He has used quite a number of his lives. He’s been beaten up numerous times by larger, stronger cats. He came home a few years ago with a stick in his eye. Last year he developed diabetes and I had to inject him with insulin twice a day. Then one day the diabetes went away and I injected him with insulin and he went into insulin shock. He started to hallucinate and I had to catch him and pour corn syrup down his throat. Each time we were sure it was the end but he always bounced back. Not bad for a little cocoa-colored kitten my dad brought home from a Philadelphia junk yard. I hope he is able to rouse himself one more time. I hope this isn’t the end.