Though the year almost change, it’s still fresh in mind. It’s still bleeding in my heart, it’s still sore in my soul.

His name is Adagio. I remember his name; I remember his voice, I remember his eyes.

I remember picking him up from the street, I remember cleaning his dirty fur, I remember I drove his parasites away.

I remember raising him up, I remember him growing big, healthy, and I remember going high and low, because I want to make sure he is happy.

I remember his soft purr on my chest. I remember looking at those round, green eyes when I first wake up. I remember his belly, round and fluffy, yellow with white stripes, the rise and fall with his breath.

I remember he got fever, I remember he didn’t heal.

I remember he had convulsions.

I thought it was his fever, the vet thought it was his nerves.

No one believed me when I noticed he had all four of his fangs changed at the same time, and two of them won’t fall off.

I remembered how the vet looked at me, she took none of my “bullshit”, but tried to be sympathetic.

I remembered the whole world thinks it’s impossible. It has never happened before, it has never been heard before, and because it has never happened, it is impossible.

Josie lost her mind. Josie went crazy, and although I didn’t say it, donation dropped sharply. We made it to the goal with help from close friends and family, but everyone else went away. Every. Single. One. They hold on their purses tight, they hold on their mouth tight. If I can see their eyes, I know I will see them turned halfway to the other side and peer with their eyes curved down and their mouth sneered.

All of a sudden, no one is available.

While I cried for help, while I dig the dirt of history with my bare hand, while I bleed, while Adagio’s fever keeps going high, while he kept getting convulsions at each peak of his fever.

And still no one would believe me when the convulsion reduced every time he lost one fang; two, in the end.
No one believed that the teeth need to be extracted, otherwise Adagio will keep getting high fever, and the fever will give him convulsions.

“Hey Josie, chill out!”


“Give the cat some time!”

“I have never heard of this before.”

The chorus just keep repeating.

“I have never heard of this before.”

“I have never heard of this before.”

So either I made it up, or it is impossible.

And so no X-Ray recommendation was given, despite my cry; despite my plea.

And when the X-Ray recommendation was given, the vet went away on one day, and had a seminar on the other. It’s almost holiday, so next week. It’s too late in the day for an X-Ray, so the day after tomorrow.

If there was a day I hated the world, and humans, and God, and the universe, it’s that day.

I went to all corners of the galaxy, and everyone said I am crazy.

When one vet finally succumb to my excessive pleading to please just take a look, it’s too late.

When one vet finally found out that what happened was possible, a surgery was scheduled for the next week, and then postponed for some more because she doesn’t have confidence, and there were parts of her still can’t believe what is going on.

Two days before the surgery, Adagio crossed the rainbow bridge.

The bridge that sprang from my lap, the bridge that I cannot touch, although he was there in my arm, fading away.

And I have nothing but guilt, running down my cheek in every drop of my tears.

And I have nothing but sorrow.

And I have nothing but anguish.

There in my arm lies one little creature who entrusted his soul to me, and I can’t even help him from dying in pain.

The day Adagio went away, all of me was shaken to the core as I crumbled piece by piece in failure.

And never stand again.

I never stand again.

Until that day when I saw a yellow kitten curl up by the curb, waiting to die.

It all started over.

I remembered picking her up. I remembered cleaning her. I remembered feeding her, I remembered her recovery.

I remembered her growing up.

I remembered she kept chasing me and tried to rub her body to my leg.

I remembered she was very hot.

I remembered I brought her fever down; I remembered I gave her better food.

I remembered she bit me, and so I checked.

She has two fangs on the front left.

The new one won’t stop growing; the old one won’t be going.

I gave her special food, I kept her temperature stable. I put her by my side, I let her chew my fingers. I kept her away from the dust and debris as my house was torn down, I shield her from everything so her frail and small body can just focus on knocking the teeth down in due time.

I watch her like a stalker, I guard her like no other.

And when the week is over, and the holiday has ended, I’d knock on every door, and ask every vet. I’d not take any of their bullshit, whether or not they have heard the case before.

There in my arm, a tiny creature had entrusted her soul to me, so I’d better not waste it again.

Even if I have to bring the whole world down to hell with me.

Even if I have to sell my soul to the devil for the opportunity.

Even if I have to stand by the corner of the street with only my lingerie for the money.

Today should be better than yesterday.

~ Josie



Published by

Josie And The Whiskers' Syndicate

The first and only cat refuge in Bandung (West Java - Indonesia) a capital breeder of a nation without animal welfare law. We care for Bandung's unwanted animals, operate a TNR as much as our budget allows, and continue to educate people about compassion to animals

Leave a Reply