Ashes to Ashes and dust to dust

If you think any of this is fabrication of fiction you need to go jump off a building real quick. I know a lot of people don't read this but to those who do *waves at Noe and Gayle* thank you. It means a lot to me to think that I'm not just talking to myself.
Garp is dead. He was my mom's cat for ten years. He's dead. I found him under the guest bed with milky eyes that were wide open and empty.
He was young... or at least he always seemed young, and he seemed, to me, everlasting.
To me he was the eptiome of life, he was as eternal as the sky and the emptiness of space. I always knew mom would die, she never sugar coated that and I'm greatful but for Garp to die... it just won't ever be the same.
How could he just have died like that? Just curled up and let go?
He was comfortable in the end, in the room nearest the heater, in a room Gizmo couldn't get into and torture him like she always did.
He's happy wherever he is, Kitty heaven I suppose. A nice thought. No Litterboxes and lots of shoes to put the slow, fat mice in. Both day and night in different rooms there, I suppose, so all the kitties can bask in the sun when they want to and streak around like little lightning bolts in the dark and they never have to eat anything but fish if they don't want to.
For Arbuckle there would be Cheetos everywhere and plety of hands to pull and pet like he liked.
I'm making myself cry again and I realld didn't want to.
Rest in peace, Garpone, we'll miss you.
(And I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes)