Ken,
My condolences. I love cats (and dogs, and cat jokes and dog jokes) and I know that one way or another, they get under your skin. When I was a kid we found a cat in our neighbor's pasture, brought her home, cleaned her up, fed her and named her Louise, and she turned into a champion mouser-rabbiter-groundhogger -- that old girl would take on anything, even baby deer. As she aged, her teeth started to fall out until all that was left was one of her lower teeth, which snagged her upper lip when she closed her mouth, so we took to calling her Fang. She made it to 19 years as well, and for months after she died my mother would, from time to time, open the door at night and call for her to come in.
Are you going to get another one?
Elizabeth H