The affecting cover painting drew me to buy this book, and it changed my life--I'm not exaggerating. I ended up requiring it for my college "Psychology of Loss" class and recommending it to my "People & Animals" class. Samantha Mooney grasps the preciousness and depth of each cat's life as she recalls the feline personalities she met on the animal cancer ward where she worked. Better than any professional manual I've read, Mooney's deceptively slim volume presents the issue of an animal's "quality of life," and its place at the core of deciding whether and when to euthanize a beloved, sick companion animal. Blending genuine emotion with her professional commitment to care and assistance, Mooney captures the fragility of these brief lives--like snowflakes melting in the warmth of the human hand that would save their beauty and uniqueness--these brief lives that share and change our own. I came to love every cat remembered in these pages as I read and reread them, particularly Fledermaus, Mooney's tiny, mysterious friend, who has affected Mooney most of all. I passionately recommend this gem of a book to any reader interested not only in cats and any of the animals with whom we share the world, but also anyone who must deal with questions about the meaning and quality of life, the possibilities and limits of medical care, and the ways we risk love--and face grief in the wake of loss. I treasure my dog-eared (!) copy of "A Snowflake in My Hand," and though I wish I knew Samantha Mooney personally, still I feel I have gotten to know her as well as the cats in her life, and to feel they are friends. As long as we keep our loved ones in memory, we do not lose them.