By Dr. Kuhu Roy
The vet was very happy with Chinki’s impeccable progress yesterday evening.
Chinki had started to enjoy the comforts of home; warm bed, hot meals, bask in the sun for as long as she wanted to, her human mother with whom she bonded during the daily vet visit and also at night when both slept snuggled together and me, her human secretary. She was a finicky eater and I had to bring her a varied menu. She used to hate me the most during the supplements time. Infact, when she returned home yesterday evening with Maa, she again showed me eyes while we climbed the first floor together. I told her then, “You are such a drama queen, Chinki, you better come back and be there for me so that even I can throw tantrums in old age.” She took a sound sleep and I did not put any alarms for the night to check on her. Then there was a clattering of utensils from the kitchen middle of the night. Maa smiled and said, “Chinki wants food.” We were good, healing better than expected. However, at quarter to six in the morning, Maa woke me up and said Chinki was restless. In a matter of minutes, Chinki was dead. Her sudden onset of symptoms, that lasted not even ten minutes, the vet suspects, and from our own understanding of having spent years with seniors is that, she had a cardiac arrest. Both of us are numb today. Had Chinki passed away when she was rescued in an almost dead condition, the pain of her loss would probably have been a little lesser. I do not know. So wish she had lived longer to enjoy her home. Life goes on, memories remain and there is no time to mourn.
