The following tale is such that happened over a year ago. These words reported the event the morning it occurred (which were posted on a blog that exists no more). So I repost it here for you, my better readers, complete with an exclusive picture. It is a sad one. Hide the razors.
What began as a weekend of drunken antics ended with a tragedy I wasn’t quite prepared for.
Sunday, 6/3/2007, Doyle (my youngest kitty) jumped on my bed at about 10:00am with a fake purple mouse in his mouth. He made sure to wake me up so I could throw it, giving him some chasing pleasure for about 15 seconds. So I obliged and threw it, and all my other kitties (Reptar and Pei Lu) chased after it, like Lindsey Lohan chases chicks who look like dudes. After that throw, I returned to my slumber.
An hour and a half later, at 11:30am, I woke up to the sound of some kitty ruckus. I looked down to my floor, and noticed that Pei Lu was sprawled out on the floor in a stretching position. Only she didn’t really look like she was stretching; she was sort of shaking. I got out of bed and picked her up. She clearly wasn’t okay. She was gasping for life. I started freaking out, hoping it was just a seizure and that she would be okay moments later.
About a minute or two later, Pei Lu died in my arms. Apparently she had a heart attack. I learned that her specific breed of cat is very susceptible to this feline heart condition (I will not even attempt to spell it) that causes the left ventricles of the heart to stiffen up, causing heart attacks and sudden death.
This is probably the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to me. Never in a million years would I have thought this to happen. And the worst part about the whole thing is that Pei Lu is Doyle’s mom. Doyle spent the rest of the day Sunday sitting near the spot upon which Pei Lu died.
What an awful day. Good night Pei Lu. You were a truly great cat and I will miss you greatly. I hope your time with me was as pleasant as it could have been and perhaps someday, we’ll see each other again. Take care of yourself kitty, I’ll take real good care of Doyle for you.
That was the last time Doyle ever climbed on my bed to wake me up to play.
Pei Lu’s Final Breath (2/2009)
I guess there is something about that action that causes his memory to recall this awful day. I have since moved from that apartment, so Doyle no longer has to stare at that spot in the carpet. Now, it’s all just a faded memory for him.