The second time was different. She gave birth to three cute kittens. I've never had a liking for cats but these set changed my mind. I loved them tremendously. When we knew Snowflake was due, we placed a box in the kitchen. She gave birth safely but still, she tried to hide those cats under the cupboard. As a solution, we bought a cage. It's the first time we've bought a cage for cats. I went to the pet shop myself. Even bought fake sand to clump their faeces.
During the first weeks, they were very well behaved. Didn't meow much. We occasionally took them out so they could walk around. The gray one, we called it Bulu. The white one, Bingsu. The orange and fattest one, Burger. Bulu was an introvert and didn't like to mingle much with his siblings. When Bingsu and Burger fought, Bulu always sat on a cloth. He always liked sitting on a cloth. Even poo-ed on it, much to mom's wrath.
When they grow old enough that they started to poo a lot, it's already time to brought them down because the stench was too much to handle. I think our mistake was letting them out sleeping in the open instead of putting them on the cage at the garage. Because weeks later, they all turned bad.
Bulu and Bingsu had always been skinny but they got skinnier evengthough we fed them everyday adequately. Clumps of their fur sometimes fell from their bodies. It's like their bodies were ridding themselves. We tried bathing all three of them. One day, we found Bulu dead in the box downstairs. The day before he died, he had an infection in his eyes and couldn't open them. He meowed a lot while clumps of his fur fell revealing his emaciated figure.
It was not long before the next death. It was Bingsu. The once furry ball of Snow, the most identical to Snowflake, when she's feeding they looked so cute. In the same box.
We figured out the hard way to prevent Burger's death. I went to the pet shop and bought worm medication for kittens and also flea spray. We fed Burger the medicine using a syringe. She refused and hid beneath my sister's armpits. We had to cover the medicine in cat food so she'd eat it.
She had brown discoloration on her ears and feet and some of her fur were falling down too. Luckily after the worm medication, Burger survived. We sprayed her fur. Put ubat gamat on her ears and feet. It took weeks and then she's back to normal.
She's our Burger again. The Burger who meowed when she needed water. She'd come up and we'd feed her from the bowl. The Burger who'd scratch at the door and egg plates to sharpen her claws. The Burger who's the fattest ever. This one time, our neighbour's cat which looked identical to Burger, we called him Burger Double got cozy with us. Burger came inside but when she saw Burger Double she quickly fleed and escaped from the door. Maybe she thought that she's being replaced.
Burger might get dirty sometimes when she came out to play but not even the cleanest and cutest cat can ever replace her. She's our Burger. Ours. The one we watched grow from a kitten who depended on Snowflake to a carefree young cat. The one we nursed from near death back to health. The one we cared and fed and shown adoration for. Our Burger couldn't be found weeks later. No corpse so likely she didn't die in the house. She sometimes travelled to our neighbour's house but when we meowed for her, she'd come back. She'd come running back to us. Always. Except this time she never came back. And we have no idea if she's still alive. Our Burger, when will you come back? I promise to be extra nice to you and scratch your fur and give you all the food in the world. I promise. Just come back. Please.
As for Snowflake, the mother of cats, she had not been herself for several days. She looked very skinny. She had always been beautiful with her immaculate white fur. She looked like an expensive Siamese cat and her fur never gets dirty. But things changed. She grew very dispirited. And she got tinier. Is it grief because all of her kids were gone? Was she ailing? We planned to take her to the clinic but we never had the opportunity.
Snowflake died today. My brother ran over her while reversing the car. He saw blood splattered from her body as she was wheezing erratically in pain. She died shortly after.
The tragedy of nine lives. Maybe we're bad cat breeders. Maybe we're inexperienced cat keepers. Maybe. Maybe. Definitely.
The tragedy of nine lives. My heart is so full of sorrow. Didn't know I can feel this sad over pets. Never knew my heart can be crushed like this.
Bulu.
Bingsu.
Burger.
Snowflake.
You were not our first cats but you were our first real pets. We loved you. Thank you for making us happy, albeit for a short time. Thank you for gracing us humans with your innocent nature. Thank you for being parts of our lives.
Sorry for not being good enough. Sorry for being bad masters. Sorry. I'm so sorry. I miss you all so bad. I'm sorry. Please know how sorry I am.
can writing essays when you're sad bring back things buried and dead?
can listening to sad playlists give life to the lifeless?
can not enjoying your day give a day back to those without more days?
can you?
can I?
can we all?
we're all powerless to the plays of fate. nobody could foresee death. maybe if we could, we'd be a hell lot nicer to each other. maybe we'll start appreciating them. maybe we'll love more. maybe we'll care more. maybe. maybe.
