Sorry to hear about your cat, Tala. I know how you feel. I had the cutest little orange and white kitten, just a baby, while I was still living at home with my parents. A neighbor found her crying in the ditch by the side of the road shivering in the rain. She was almost drowning in a huge puddle. He brought her to me because he knew I liked animals.
My dad wouldn't let me bring her inside because she had fleas and she was too young for any flea products.
She was precious. I named her Sunshine because she was a sweet little ball of sunshine, all orange and white, with cute little sky blue eyes. And she would meow like crazy at the door when she was lonely and wanted to play.
I'd only had her about a week when I heard her crying outside like she usually would when she wanted attention. I was watching a TV show that only had a couple of minutes left and I thought I'd just wait until after it was over to go out and play with her but I heard her cry again and it didn't sound like it usually did. It was higher pitched and scared. I ran to the door and opened it and there was my landlord's nasty, mangy terrier, Snoopy, standing over her as she twitched violently in convulsions. I grabbed my dad's rifle which was beside the door and started out but he grabbed it before I could get out the door. (I never would have killed an animal, I was just angry and wanted to scare the hell out of the landlord for letting his mutt run loose when there was a leash law.) All I could do was scream, "Your mutt killed my kitten you fucking bastard!" as loudly as possible to my landlord who was in his yard. His house was on a hill several hundred yards away from ours. My dad told me to get my ass back inside before I pissed the landlord off.
I went back inside and started sobbing and my dad met the landlord in the yard. A few minutes later he came in and told me the landlord said he would pay to take her to the vet and I told my dad that if there was ANYTHING they could do for her, he'd better damned well do it if he valued the life of his mutt, and if there was nothing they could do he could pay to have her put to sleep. My dad brought her to me so I could kiss her goodbye.
About an hour later he came home and told me that the landlord refused to pay to have her treated because she had broken ribs and a broken leg and it would have been over $400, but it only cost like $60 to put her down. She was gone and I was PISSED.
Every time that dog saw me he'd tuck his tail between his legs and run away and hide. He must have been able to sense how angry I was.