With profound sadness the Phactor must report that our magnificent little lion had to be put to sleep. Although only part of our family for eight years, this Maine coon cat enriched our lives immeasurably with his wonderful temperament and sweet disposition. He was maybe the best pet ever, a huge lummox of feline love, a gentle giant, a helpful and sensitive soul, a truly good boy cat without a mean bone in his body, but life dealt him a poor genetic hand, the cruel outcome of selective breeding, so his life ended in middle age, and abruptly. We grieve and feel great loss because we could not say goodbye properly or in time or in a manner he would be able to understand. Each night he would want his belly rubbed before going to sleep and starting his heavy breathing snores; and each morning he would snuggle with his owner and soul mate before she got up to face the day while he galloped down stairs for that most wonderful time of day, breakfast. Who will unroll the TP now? Who will fish the ice cubes out of your drink? Who will dab his furry paw in his water and lick it off to get a drink making a wet mess in the process? Who wouldn't love such a beast? Our bed will certainly feel larger and emptier.