Tiger Tiger... no longer bright...

We lost our cat, Bolai, yesterday (15th April, 2009). It was surreal... the way everything went. I want to share what I felt at that moment, and through the day with my readers, but there is something stopping me from going through that pain again. For the first time, I am making the world privy to a written communication between my lover and me.

"A bereavement... painful, yet definite.. so strange.. every time I witness a death, it is as if all the realities of life seem like a pack of lies... I was so helpless, seeing him collapse on the floor like that... it pained me within. It tore me apart as the inevitable took me over.. even before it was over, i went out to tell mom, for i knew his soul had left... isn't it strange.. my eyes are welling up as i write this... 

I came back home with mom, with his body in the green basket specially bought for his trips to the vet, wrapped in the towel which we keep for him... his collar loose, in my hand, the bell tinkling away.. when i put his body into the basket, the body gave a gasp.. I looked up at the vet, and, well, as if it would have been anything else, he nodded the negative.. he was gone...

I put his basket in the landing, and I came in, washed my face, and went off looking for salt and bleach.. he needed to be buried... and there was no one.. I came back with the provisions, and got down to business.

The narrow plant-hedge against the boundary wall along the driveway- in front of his favourite window seemed like the best place... I took a shovel, and dug hard, and as deep as I could...kept on digging till I hit brick. I wrapped his body in a white cloth, and laid it to rest. It looked so peaceful....so far away from those needles and pipes... I did not let mum see his dead body... she would have broken down even more."

That morning was strange. The puppies were rather well-behaved. Bolai had been behaving in an extremely unlikely manner. He was defecating while sitting in one place, a sign that either he is extremely weak, or that he had given up. Weak he was not, for he was not allowing us to keep him on our laps or hold him tight. His stomach was tight- indigestion, I thought, and gave him some digestive syrup to cool it down, and it worked. For the first time in two days he drank some water. We thought it was a good sign.. two more days and four more shots each day.. he would be fine... he would hate us by the end of it, but he would be fine.... God knows that congestion in the chest can be bad... coupled with constipation... yes, he was a good Bengali Cat.

We went to the vet, and I seated mum in the waiting room, and took him in myself... the shots were administered, and an enema needed to be given. This was when it happened. We were holding him in place...

He started choking, fell off the table in struggle,  and went into shock, which induced a cardiac arrest. I loved him.. we all loved him... I buried his collar with him.... I can never hear the bell ring without being reminded of him. His best friend, Toffee, is still looking askance at his disappearance.

My afternoon's toil is right opposite his favourite window. He loved sitting there, watching the trees' branches sway in the breeze... or little sparrows swooping down.

Little heart, I don't know where you are, and I don't know why you left us, but know this- we love you, and shall remember you forever...  you will never have to feel closed within four walls again, or the harsh coldness of a doctor's table, or even the needles which were larger than your shanks... but wherever you are, you shall always be loved and longed for.

Never again shall we feel your soft ears, or stroke your beautiful eyes.... mummy's scars from your scratches will heal, but you have broken her heart. At this cost, I hope you got freedom from all worldly ties. May you not have to come back with one of your nine lives- and if you do, come back to us...

Rest in Peace, little one....