Heidegger is dead. May he rest in peace.

After eight years of being an endearing pet and affectionate companion, his life came to an end tonight in the unseen back rooms of a veterinary hospital. He lived a full life of eating, sleeping and pampering. He died healthy and happy of an all too common killer: a signature at the bottom of a form. He leaves in grief his two adoptive parents and two foster siblings.

In less than a day, his life turned around and came to an abrupt end. His peculiar behavior and difficulty accomplishing what was otherwise a mundane task hinted at something serious and so he was taken to an expert. The expert was clear. Of the many possible scenarios and explanations for his condition, nearly all meant medical expenses beyond the means of his caretakers. More than an hour was spent agonizing over the possibilities and what each would entail. Tears were shed, hearts were wrenched and emotions were held back as the inevitable decision was taken. At worst, he would necessitate surgery well beyond expensive. At best, he would require medication and attention that would whittle away at funds meant for other purposes. In both cases, he would end up the same way; only later, and at a higher cost.

Just like a doomed project kept alive by copious amounts of shareholder funds, his life could have been extended by a year or more. It would have been difficult for all involved and would have doubtlessly been no stranger to hardships or some tough times. And in the end, it would have ended, just the same. It would have been possible; it just wouldn't have been reasonable.

The final result was a product not of emotion, but of reason. Better he die happy and content, before he suffered. Before he began to cost us much, much more.

With terrible detachment, we had to stare at numbers and draw the line: what was his life worth now? How much would let him live? What expense would doom him? What were we willing to sacrifice in his place?

In the end, nothing beyond reason. Not half a month's rent. Not four weeks of food. Not five brand new video games that would never grow sick and die, nor offer companionship or love.

Tonight, his life was worth 300$ and months of fees. Ultimately, his death cost 135$ and months of grief.

Reason killed the cat. We just signed the paperwork.