Actually, I forgot about my phone. My usual camera, the S100, is in the shop for repair of a well-known lens error, so I've been making more use of my phone lately.
Taken just before 10 in the morning, this would seem to be the real last photo I took of Bonnie in her life.
Below is a photo of Bonnie in the cat bed on the pillow beside mine. This is where she spent at least some of pretty much every night since 2002 or so, after Jenny died. This photo was taken April 19, the day after I learned from her ultrasound that things weren't as bad as I feared, and her cancer surgery would go ahead the following Monday. As you can imagine, this shot represents a rather joyous and hopeful moment in our recent life journey together.
Below is a photo from the last Thursday of her life. I'd been working from home over the past couple of weeks, both to keep an eye on her and to spend time with her, knowing that no matter what happened, the end of our time together was in sight... though at that moment, I didn't know how near it really was. As the photo shows, from time to time she would show up and simply insist on stepping out onto the keyboard tray, obliging me to move the keyboard for a while. Only the most hard-hearted could fail to understand the necessity of this indulgence.
And, finally, this is a shot from last Sunday, a week ago, around 4 in the afternoon. Bonnie was sitting next to me and simply reached out, as she did every so often. She didn't tug... she just reached out and left her paw on my arm: I'm here. Being near you pleases me. You matter to me. I had no idea yet when I picked up the phone and took this photo that we were already well into the last 24 hours of her life.