Being a pet owner: joys and sorrows go hand-in-hand

Through great pain did I decide to write this post. I am not one to share stories from my life for the world to read or hear. I am a strong pioneer of “keeping private things private”. This on the other hand, is something I feel needed to be shared because it could help someone out there and in turn help out an animal as well. To brief you on context, I am a pet owner and on the 27th of July 2020, I watched my cat struggle to stay alive while slowly inching towards her last breath. The motive of this post is to respect her memory and help people reach out to other animals.

I have 3 cats, the one that sadly passed away was the middle one. Her name was Nala Jr(her mother being Senior) because of my fondness of the Lion King franchise. Raising pets are one of the most fulfilling experiences in life but keeping a pet is making a commitment. It’s all fun and games when you’re playing around with them and making funny stories for the ‘gram but it’s when things take a turn for the worse that you need to stand by them more than ever.

The best part of social media, some would say, are the adorable pet videos we see of puppies running around and cats cuddling with their owners. If you ever see one of these and think “I want one of those”, do understand that apart from the evident joys that they bring to your life, you must be willing to put in the work to care for them just like a family member. That means vaccinating, grooming, potty training and most importantly, caring for them when they are sick. Animals are in greater danger of falling prey to diseases because they simply cannot express “my tummy hurts” in words.

Nala jr was attacked by a neighbourhood cat while she was a kitten and I remember the nights just calming her down by soothing her because she couldn’t move and feeding her milk with a dropper. This event scarred her and she stopped interacting much with other cats after that. In a way, she grew deep trust in me and my parents for the care she received. When she was a year old, she gave birth to a litter of her own but every last on died in a few days’ time. This is when she took in an abandoned kitten and nursed him. He is still with us to this day and is fondly called Simba by us all.

Shortly after this, she caught a severe cold and needed to be taken to the hospital twice a day for almost a week for saline and medicines. This was by far the toughest time for me because even though the human race has come so far, most of us still lack empathy. When I’d say I couldn’t make it somewhere because my cat was sick, I’d be on the receiving end of sarcastic jibes. This meant I needed to balance time at work and other commitments to ensure she got the treatment she needed. She came off of this strong and I was just in awe of this cat’s mettle.

But then, one final time, she fell sick, refused to eat and vanished from her natural area where she’d spend her time. I found her after searching around the building and noticed she was just skin and bones. I did my best to hydrate her with water, milk, electrolytes and even give her a multivitamin. I’d hoped the fight in her would win again this time, but this morning I woke up to find her collapsed on the ground and panting for breath. I rushed her to the hospital. The sight of her in an oxygen mask that covered her entire head and saline needle jabbed into her arm while she lay almost lifeless on the stainless steel platform is a picture, I feel, will haunt me for the rest of my life. I brushed her fur in intervals, telling her I was there until the end. Her body was weak, her fur was shedding, she was panting to breath even in the oxygen mask, the doctor told me survival was unlikely but I wanted to try until the end. She had come through before, why not this time?

Eventually, the breathing stopped and I just sat and stared while the doctor tried to administer CPR. She was gone, a lifeless husk of the creature I cared for with all my heart. This cues the pain, the relentless tides of sorrow that leave you drowning in an ocean, kicking and struggling to come to terms with it. Your colleagues and classmates most often don’t understand the grief and you are left to deal with this alone while going on with life as though a chunk of your soul was not smashed into a thousand pieces.

I am happy Nala Jr is now in a better place and her suffering has finally ended. I love her enough to let her go and I am happy I was there for her last moments, as excruciating as they were for the both of us. I wish to continue caring for animals in her honour. I will miss her tippy-toeing towards me when I’d come back home or her habit of sitting and staring at me while I cook or her jumping onto my bed to snuggle with me while I sleep. She has left a void for sure but if I had a chance, I’d do it all over again. Nala, wherever you are – heaven, limbo or reborn as a kitten, I hope you get all the happiness that you deserve and all the belly scratches and treats that you desire. You were one of a kind and will always be with me in my heart. My only regret is that I could not tell you that I loved you in your last moments, so sudden was the instance we lost your pulse, but I’m glad you could feel me brush your fur one last time and know your buddy was there with you. I love you and hope to see you again one day, wherever that may be.