It was Monday, 23 January, 2012.
I woke up in the morning blissfully. Only because I saw Bush was sleeping in my arms. If I remember correctly, he looked better. I was glad that he was recovering. When I came out of my bedroom, he followed. By the time I finished my breakfast, I saw him resting on the living room sofa. I went over there and called him "Bushhhhhhh" .. he even replied with a very delightful 'meow' followed by his relaxing sound of purring.
Until that moment, I was keeping my hopes very high. The past 12 days of his severe illness had been extremely tough. But I would put up with anything to keep him alive. I had been nursing him day and night. Having to keep the temperature constantly warm for his low body temperature, I kept changing the hot water bottles, even in the middle of the night. As though it wasn't enough, I would even wake up from my sleep to heat up the blankets. If there was anyone to check on me at 4am during those days, they would see me ironing. He refused to eat or drink in the earlier days of his serious illness. I had to use a syringe to drop the glucose water into his mouth, drop by drop.
I kept saying to him and more importantly, but not very convincingly, to myself "We will fight this together. Stay strong. "
In the middle of his illness, I had to take a trip to Upper Burma with my dad. As much as I wished he would miraculously return to the better state of health and wait for my return, in my heart, I also secretly wished not having to witness the agony of his departure so that I could always deceive myself he had either disappeared or ran away. My mom took care of him during my 36-hour absence. It was as though my prayers had been answered -- he recovered. When I returned from the trip, he started to eat again. Little by little. It even surprised the vets who did not keep much hopes on him. Gradually, he started going outside to sunbathe himself without any person having to carry him and put on the sunlit spot.
I still kept changing the hot water bottles to keep him warm. I still woke up at intervals, even in the middle of the night, to check on his surrounding temperature and made sure it was nicely warm. Now that my prayers had been answered, I did it thankfully. When I looked into his eyes, I even felt as though he was trying to assure me that he would continue to live. I treasured every single second of us snuggling in bed, or his purring. I adored every sound of his meows. I cherished to see every single step of his graceful cat-walks.
It was the most precious one week in my life because I was at the mercy of Bush's postponed death.
At around noon of the said date above, I saw frothy saliva coming out from Bush's mouth whenever he breathed. I called the vet and he prescribed a few medicines to be injected. I was thankful that my parents are vets themselves (only not specialized in domestic species). While my parents went out to buy the prescribed medicine, Bush started getting restless. What I thought minor "just the frothy saliva" was just a symptom of a major problem -- his heart failing to pump and his lungs getting filled with liquids. Even though he was given right treatment in time, I guessed his heart and lungs were shutting down, making him impossible to breathe. The way he had to struggle for his last few breaths will permanently be imprinted on my mind. Forever
Only the half prayers of mine was answered -- he did recover miraculously even though it only for a short duration; but the other wasn't -- not to witness the pain he had to struggle.
He was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes in the morning and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes. There's one quote I liked a lot from the book "The Kite Runner", written by Khaled Hosseini -- "For you, a thousand times over" said by the slave to his master. Yes, I would put up with those interrupted sleeps for a thousand times over .... and over and over again .... if only he were to live again.
I now feel like there is a huge vacuum in my heart.
Comments (4)
Sue we all did what we can do. May be his time is up. I also tried my best on my puppy. I even told my self and talk to her we will be fine. the worst things is i already knew her answer and vet confirmed it. but I tried to hope for sunshine, for some sign showed that she will get better. it only took two weeks. The worst things was the night before she died, she asked me to let her out from my room.She never asked me before and i didn't notice what she meant at that time. And after that during her last moment she called out for me. As soon as i reached her i told her she can go. Cause I knew that she tried so hard cause i couldn't let her go. When i sit by her side her pupils didn't work any more but she still asking my permission to move on. Until now I can still feel the whole in my heart. I shouldn't let her suffered so much. I should have told vet to make easy way for her. Because of me she feel pain because of my stubbornness she had to suffer. I thought i could help her. I thought i could show every one was wrong abt her. But that thoughts were make my baby more suffer than she should be. I can understand your feeling i been there too. take care sis.
@thiri10 - Thank you, Thiri. I knew his time was up too. =( Thank you again for sharing your story. I'm glad that you could relate to me.
i am sorry for your loss. i am sure he knew he was loved and that you really cared for him. i recently lost 3 of my "pets". the places they occupy in our hearts are special indeed.
@buddy71 - Thanks for dropping by and sharing my grief. The only thing I could console myself is to think I've done the best for him, the best I know how. Yet, I just still can't help tears swelling up in my eyes when I wake up, only to realize that he's no longer there sleeping in my arms. I really can't describe the feeling. Words fail.