A WIZARD OF HER OWN

“Morgana catches up with Merlin and Arthur and drives their horses away, but she is killed by Merlin wielding Excalibur. Without horses, Merlin cannot get Arthur to the Isle in time, and the King of Camelot dies in Merlin’s arms, after thanking his friend for everything he has done.”

In the wee hour of the day, just before dawn broke and the first rooster crows, the opposite is happening.

For three years now, Wizard had stayed with us. In the tender age of three months, I had snatched her from a (minority) ethnic people in Indonesia who eat cats and dogs. Cats in particular is a delicacy near Christmas.

For two months, she spent her days crumpled and stuffed with many others in the cage. I have no better option. Our shelter was obliterated by Typhoon and builders were coming in and out with heavy materials and whatever.

She is one of the cats whose name truly represent her. She is not named after the Wizard of Oz, she was named after Merlin of the Arthurian legend. Merlin is the name of a friend’s dog then, so I opt for Wizard.

My mother commented that all her “magical” traits are because she is Siamese. I agree. She climbs everything, jumps on anyone, broke into all sort of cabinets, and dug hole in the drain to slip out to the back of the house and chase butterflies.

When I closed the drain hole because she got stuck in there and almost died twice, she went mad, but the next day, I found the wire mesh atop the wall that serve as air circulation for the cattery had hole as big as basketball ring.

If you guessed she was at the backside of the cattery chasing butterflies, you are right.

For the past year, however, she is slower. She is thinner, she is weaker. She ate less, she sleeps more. We found out that she has FIP (dry) roughly the same day my Australian mother broke the news that my Daddy had kidney cancer and that he probably have half a year left with us.

So let it be my own little secret then. I have no idea how I will tell her that the Wizard she always love will die without possible cure just like her husband would.

Throughout that one year, we’d try everything. We know that our time is short, we know that death is near. We took a walk around the house, now that there is galvanized metal wire installed on the back window, and I’d walk with her uphill near the crematorium, where the grass is always green, where the wind always blows, where the birds always sing, where butterflies dancing and prancing one tip of Daisies and Chamomiles.

There she will chase as much butterflies as she wants, as long as her eroding power would allow.
Then we will sit on one of the gazebos lining up the Chinese graveyard watching the sun set.

We eat everything. She eats everything. From pork to beef to chickens and her favorite tuna and salmon.

These past two days, whenever I am at the cattery, she never left my side.

Last night, she would bite if I tried to leave. So I stayed.

I sat on one of the cat’s pillows by the fish tank, and turn on the light. We watch the pink and black Danios swimming like mad all over the fish tank, just like butterflies prancing and dancing through the Daisies and Chamomiles in the field.

I sat there with Wizard in my arms, sometimes chatting with a far away friend.

Just about three am in the morning, my friend typed “Now, Josie…”

I waited, but she didn’t type further.

I put down my phone and saw Wizard looking at me.

“We had plan that mummy will come and visit next year” I whispered.”Such a shame you won’t be here to greet her”

I can almost see her smile. She is absolutely not having anyone tell her off for all the mischief she committed. She is Wizard. She is Siamese, she gets what she wants when she wants them.

Wizard took a deep breath, and blow it very, very slowly, as if letting go the burden of all of her nine lives.

“Well, to Avalon then”

I knew.

She looked at me one more time. She put one of her paw on my left chest, above my beating heart.

And then she joins the stars, where she can dance and prance chasing butterflies.

In eternity and beyond.

~ Josie

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

“Morgana catches up with Merlin and Arthur and drives their horses away, but she is killed by Merlin wielding Excalibur. Without horses, Merlin cannot get Arthur to the Isle in time, and the King of Camelot dies in Merlin’s arms, after thanking his friend for everything he has done.”

From the fifth and final series of the British fantasy drama series “Merlin” originally aired by BBC – UK, 6 October – 24 December 2012


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