This blog entry is dedicated to my first “son”, Elphar, who died on June 21st, 2012, just a month shy away from his first birthday.
We picked him up from the SPCA when he was just two months old. He was really the charm of the whole litter, coat wise, making him the obvious choice. Smelly with pee on the first day, we hit it off right away with Elphar having no fears of snuggling off with a relatively new stranger. The first two baths were the easiest, while the rest – one would expect him to put up a scratchful of a fight along with the loudest puffs of growls every 5 seconds (which is a lot if you know cats). His first collar was a normal sky blue ribbon with a bell taken from a cat collar which couldn’t fit as his neck was too small. The bell, became our symbolic sound of “coming toward you”, as whenever we hear the bell, it would mean Elphar was jumping towards you.
In his early months, we found that he was afraid of heights, which is evident the every time I lift him close to my chest and his nails literally come underneath my skin. Like any kid, unaware of the damage he’d do, we would often ludge my on my lap, sometimes missing a grip, leaving… patterns on me. He was quite annoying in his third month of age, chewing into my toes every chance he gets. That’s one of the reasons why we got our second son, Remy – so that Elphar had something/someone else to chew on.
Elphar was a social cat, which craved contact. Years of longing for a cat, I always envisioned it having one which will sit on me 24/7, curl up like a ball as I am lying down on my back and rubbing my face into that ball – just some of my weird cat-fantasies. He was never a “head-rammer”, like those strays begging for food by rubbing on legs. To a great extent, Elphar was all that. We didn’t teach him too many tricks, many our fault, but we did get as far as getting him to respond to his own name, where he would mew if he was hungry enough. We also managed to teach him to respond to a double-tap, where one would only need to double tap on a surface where you want him to go, and he’ll be there. I did this numerous times on my tummy.. what a furr of joy I’d get just for tapping myself twice! He would sleep on top of my almost every night, for the first 20-30 minute before I start turning about on bed.
Another unique personality was that he likes wagging his tail, quite like a dog. Whenever he is happy or provoked, he’ll be wagging away like a car’s whipper at high speed. His tail was also bushy, though not like a persian, but still bushy for a DSH. It felt great whenever I lay next to him, just calling his name.. and he begin wagging his tail at my face. What a magical feeling.
Like any cat, he was fussy over what food he gets, especially if he knows there something better on the shelves. But of course he’d eat whatever he can get when he has no choice. Not quite the hunter like his brother Remy, but he was nonetheless curious of his surroundings. On their first “hunting” event, where a rat was caught, despite Remy getting the credit for catching the baby-rat, it was Elphar who seeked it out. On another occasion, he did the same, though seemingly not knowing how to kill his prey. But we still loved him none-the-less.
Elphar was also a very social cat, proving to be quite an asset over Chinese New Year when we’d have guest, having no second thoughts about whoever he snuggles on. Quite a world apart from Remy who hates being “cornered”.
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Remy & Elphar
When we first brought Remy home, after I got charmed by his beautiful coat, he was the uncharted experience of “introducing” a new cat to the resident cat. On the first day, Elphar greeted Remy with hostility. But to our joy, after a couple of weeks, we saw the first signs of them using each other as cushions! Plus another week, we say a “ying-and-yang”. They hit it off pretty well. Though at first Elphar was the “alpha male”, even licking him after the first bath, Remy quickly grew in size and seemingly took over the power of hierarchy, licking him after baths instead. It did seem at one point Elphar hated the change of events, but there’s little nature could do about it. Remy became larger while Elphar got longer. Sometimes I’d call Elphar “Sausage” cause he does look like one. Remy served as an ideal companion for Elphar whenever the house was empty. Prior to that, we’d surely come home to a house with a loudly mewing kitten, calling out cause he misses us. Remy was also the new “biting post”, which worked out pretty well.
Left: First day with the two companions – not a smooth intro. Right: Early signs of bonding
Left: Just about 3 months old -in his new “house”. Right: He sometimes like sleeping in my dad’s socks basket.
Left: Elphar in “piggy bank” position, his typical pose, even as he sits on people. Right: Pure bliss when a cat sits on you.
Left: Remy giving age-wise big bro a nice dry lickin’. Right: Someones gonna have their balls sliced.
Final months
In March, out of insistence of my mom, who noticed Elphar’s milky eyes insisted that we get a second opinion from the vet. I honestly thought it was nothing. But a routine visit to the get got us refered to the UPM Animal Hospital where we checked him in to test for three suspected diseases – FeLV (feline leukemia), FIV (like a HIV for cats) and FIP (a virus that attacks the nerves). After checking him for a week, the results came back with the most depressing expectation – Elphar had ALL of them, each unsurvivable on its own. The vets gave him just two months to live.
I was devastated. I tried keeping myself positive by telling myself that we kept him alive for 8 months so far, whereas he might be put down if he were still in SPCA, but those was just deceiving myself. Truth is I was devastated there and then with the news. It was just a matter of time before I lose a loved one. In the first month it didn’t seem out of the ordinary, though we had to keep feeding him medicine – that is grabbing the fiesty cat, cracking tablets in half and popping them down one at time, 5 in total on average. Good thing he likes the taste of the cough syrup, which he downs with a syringe.
After a month, I had to go for a meeting in Melaka for three days. Upon arriving home, I met a very different Elphar. The disease had accelerated and he was no longer walking straight. But after a few days, he improved and seemed to be back to normal again. Responding to my double-taps and lying on my belly to sleep, just like old times. A couple of weeks after that, we were in Australia for 12 days. Once again, upon arriving home, a very different cat. My mom even said at one point it seemed like he didn’t make it. He was severely underweight and didn’t eat very much. So much so that my mom and maids had to force feed him, otherwise he might just die of starvation. Despite this worsened condition, he once again appeared to get better after a few days, gaining more energy and even running and chasing Remy at some points.
The last weekend before he died, I had a college Reunion/Anniversary trip to Port Dickson for just a couple of days. When I got home – again, the situation worsened. I sometimes get the impression that every time we’re away, Elphar misses us and that gave him “lesser spirit” to fight the disease. However, this time where would be no improving. He would not down his food despite the force feeding and for a couple of days hardly moved or defecate. For the past month, he was secreting fluids down his nostrils which stained his once brilliant white chest. He was also very dry, even at one point, his jaws were “stuck”.
Seeing him in so much suffering, I eventually conceded with my dad that we should put him down. An appointment was set on June 20th, 2012, but I got busy with some work, forcing us to delay things a day. For the last two days, I tried holding my paralysed cat close to my chest, ignoring the smell and just wanted to spend as much time I as could remembering how great he was. Finally, the day came. My mom, Yen Mun and I put him into a woven basket normally used for a CNY hamper to make it as airy and comfortable as possible. We told the vet the situation, of which he had been monitoring for sometime, and told him our decision. As the vet made preparations, I petted Elphar for the last times, even rubbing my face on its once fat belly. I expressed my love for him and told him that he’ll be missed. We were asked to leave the room as the anesthetics were administered to lessen the pain. Then, he broke out of his paralysation and put up a heroic has fight with the vets, but was eventually subdued. We were invited back in as the “poison” was administered. It all happened so fast, just a minute after the red solution was administered, he was gone. Yen and my mom were in tears (I’ve NEVER seen my mom cry, not even for my grandparents) while I was just – in disbelief. Part of me wished he didn’t come to the vet to end it so soon, but at the same time his suffering wasn’t doing him good. But what’s done is done.
He brought him home to a grave pre-dug out by my neighbour, under a “limau” tree at the slope of the hill in front of our house. There he will lay foever facing he view of which he enjoyed throughout most of his live, overlooking Taman Universiti Indah.
Son, I miss you so much. You were one hell of a good cat.
Left: The poor state Elphar was with FeLV, FIV & FIP. Right: How I want to remember Elphar – my pretty ideal persona cat.
