I miss your lively frolicking
The way you’d loudly speed around
The house, the stairs the balcony
Until you’d tiptoe with no sound
With your big glassy eyes you’d look
As if all was just really fine
But then we’d find our pens and books
Half shoved under the sofa line
We’d yell at you for your mischief
But really it made no diff’rence because
By then you would have won us over with
Your pur, your meow, your cheeks and paws
You were my little girl, always
Kept following me everywhere I went
It’s been two days and I still can’t get over
The silence you have left
There are so many things of you I miss
And how I wished I was around
But I found you lying here fragilely
You were already gone
I know I’ll be fine, it’s only a matter of time
But now, I just miss having you here
Call me selfish, call me stubborn
But you were still so, so little dear

Sleep tight, baby girl


Sunday, around 2PM, I got a call from my little sister E. Something had happened to Penny. At that moment, my world collapsed. The only thing I could think of was our annual check-up at the doctor a mere week ago. They had heard a soft murmur in her heart and she had an irregular heartbeat. Penny was scheduled for an exam in December but the doctor reassured us that Penny was in perfect health and all should be fine. But when that call came from my sister, I feared for the worst. K and I raced our way back to Amsterdam. In a time where distances are shortened through the internet and mankind has traveled to the moon and back, how is it that traveling to Amsterdam from Paris can still take up to a couple of hours. It felt like an eternity. And then the second call came. It broke my heart. We arrived home six hours later, where we found her lying on the floor. Until then, I had refused to believe it. Even now, I can hear her meowing and any moment now, I expect her to come running to me from around the corner. The doctor said she must have gone into a cardiac arrest, which made her collapse and die on the spot. It must not have only been a heart failure but she must have been sick for a while, the doctor said. But with some cats it’s hard to tell. I still can’t get the word “die”, “died” or “death” out of my mouth. And when I spoke to the doctor, I couldn’t bare speaking about Penny in the past tense. But she was gone. I told K I wanted to keep her things in the house for a while. Her toys are still on the floor. There are traces of her hair on the couch and chairs. Even her food and water trays are still filled, as if nothing had happened. It all just happened so fast. She was a quirky, mischievous and very much spoiled little cat. But she was my spoiled cat. The whole house was her domain and it’s so odd to not have her around anymore. Wherever she is now, I hope she’s as mischievous as always and that she’s giving everyone a hard time. I wouldn’t expect any less from her really.