Good night, sweet prince

Gotta love Shakespeare. The man was blessed with incredible insight. He was a master at pinning down and crystallising the essence of human nature -- and wonderful lines in his play prove his mastery. Like this one from Macbeth, probably one of the Bard's best plays.

Lady Macbeth to her husband on showing his fear and worry at the killing of the King:
"Your face, my thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters."

Survival tip: never betray on your face what you're thinking or feeling, lest it betrays you.

Shakespeare is cool that way :)

"Good night, sweet prince / And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Hamlet

Hauntingly beautiful.

We bid fond farewell to our little cat, Borhan (aka Bobo) yesterday night, 18 December 2006 around 10.45pm. Our tuxedo cat with the black batman mask on his face finally breathed his last breath. He was a grand 15 and a half, a grand ole master of 80+ in human terms.

Bobo had been ill for a long time. He suffered chronic renal failure about a year or more ago. But he was a spirited one and responded to the daily treatments of saline drip which rehydrated him and stuck around for a long time after.

A few months ago, Bobo started slowing down. He wouldn't eat, he would just sit on the sofa -- the whole day long. A few weeks ago, the vet and I had a chat about Bobo. I was conflicted about giving him the saline drip to prolong his life, when there was little chance of quality. The doctor knew that we wouldn't consider putting Bobo down, so he advised that we continued the drip - 250ml instead of 500ml. Doctor Goh said the best case scenario was for him to die of a heart attack coz that would be fast. We both looked at each other and agreed that was the best. Matter of fact.

The return of the king
One month ago, on Mum's birthday 22 November, mum brought Bobo back to our house. We thought he was close to dying and Mum wanted to be able to take care of him at home. The cat felt it was home as soon as he touched down, he knew the place and sought out all the nooks and crannies, the upstairs and downstairs, the garden and kitchen -- all the familiar places. He was home. To die.

About a week ago, Bobo's condition slided precipitously. He was quieter than usual, would hide out in Dad's storeroom and was generally listless. A few days later, he started crying pitiful cries at regular intervals. It was tough for us to hear. We thought he was close to go but he forged on. He cried but found the energy to walk around the house, to sit at the courtyard to watch the world go by, sit at the kitchen, under the table, some of his fave places.

On Sunday evening, we noticed that his left front paw was swollen. So Mum brought him to the vet Monday morning. The vet put him on IV straightaway as he was severely dehydrated, there was toxins in his blood as his kidneys weren't/ can't do the job anymore, and he wasn't producing enough blood for himself. Doc wanted him there for at least 4 - 5 days.

We knew his time was probably up, so we decided we'd take him back that night.

I collected him from the vet and he was already totally without strength. He just lay on his side. We put him under the table, where he liked to see the world. He continued to remain on his side.

I wrapped my Xmas presents.

Then I decided I should spend some time with dear ole Bobo. So I sat next to him and patted him. He didn't move.

15 to 20 minutes later, he did move. He wanted to stand but his legs were wobbly and he just couldn't. So I tried helping him. That was when I realised he was gasping for breath. He continued to twist and turn and tried to capture air into his lungs. I started crying and called grandma. Gramps was the Rock of Gibraltar, cool as cucumber, she came over and started saying some prayers and prayed that Bobo go in peace. She's just super.

Within minutes, Bobo was gone.

Hangman happens
It was strange. One minute he had breath, then the next moment, the last breath was taken and he slumped in our hands. So this is how Death happens. Quite surreal.

We waited for him to go for a long time because it was tough to see him suffer so, but when death happened, it was hard. It was something one would never be prepared for.

Mum and I really bawled. Death is hardest for the people left behind.

Well, yesterday was an emotionally draining day, and it was capped by the death of my beloved cat. Well, crying was good I guess, it was an outlet.

We laid Bobo out on his mat. He "slept" yesterday night in the warmth of the house, since it was raining and cold outside. This morning, Dad buried him under our banana tree.

Outside, it is still raining. It has rained non-stop for two days. Drama Mama thinks it's bleak weather. Grey it is, but I love the rain. Rain is about cool, purification, life, hugs and snuggles, fireplaces, sleep.

Great time to sleep.

Good night dear Bobo.