Farewell, Miette!
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| Kitten Miette two years ago |
It was
typical Thursday night. A serene night, with probably pitch black studded sky.
I had just turned my light off when I heard thudding noise. Immediately, I set
my eyes wide open, and ears ready as radar. It was heard again, clear and near,
like the sound of falling books and rustling papers. As if someone was hastily
looking for something in the shelf. I frowned. At this hour? Who
could it be? My father was sleeping, and so was my sister. As for my brother,
he was out somewhere. No one else was in the house. I started to fret.
I buried
myself under my fluffy warm blanket anxiously. I was hoping my father would be
woken up by the noise, and he’d check it out. I waited, and waited, only to
nothing. For the next hundred secondhand’s ticking, the sound wouldn’t stop,
keeping me from repose. Couldn’t bear it any longer, I leapt up from my bed,
ready to check it myself. I walked on my tiptoes to the sound. As I did, my
heart was racing.
The sound
guided me to the light-off living room. I stepped on some sticky fluid,
thrilled by what it might be. I rushed to get the switch, and found out the
fluid I stepped on was colourless but thick. Other than that, I didn’t see
anything strange. There was no one, and no mess had been done. My curiosity got
more profound. I approached the sound, then my sweet ivory furry Miette I found.
She was lying, furiously shaking on the ground.
I gasped,
flabbergasted, and panicked to find her knocking on heaven’s door. Colourless
fluid and excrement were scattered around her. While she was trembling, foamy
liquid came out from her mouth. She must’ve been poisoned! I broke the news to
my father, only to hear him reluctantly responded, “Let her be. It dies, we’ll
burry.”
I called my
brother, he’d go home and bring milk as the antidote. While waiting for him, I
could only watch the poor kitty rolling here and there, hitting chair, table,
and bookshelf. I felt so helpless. My heart was aching to behold her dying.
More painfully, she groaned and moaned, while her eyes were glaring in pain. For
half an hour, she had been panting and I could sense her pain. I cried and
cried, though I knew it wouldn’t change a thing.
When my
brother came, he fed her with the milk and soon after, she ceased quivering. We
hoped it was the antidote. She breathed fast, eyes still glaring, but stiff as
statue. We waited for a slight of hope that Miette would be alive. Alas, it seemed
like we were late giving her the milk. She finally kicked the bucket. I spilled
out my tears until I felt soothed, then I could let her go.
My sister
found out Miette dead as doornail in the morning, so she cried hard. Everyone
was in woe, since we had raised the lively smart moggy for almost two years.
She had been such a noble cat since we adopted her. As much as we didn’t want
to lose her, we buried her under a longan tree.
My
witnessing Miette die was a life-changing experience. It reminds me that death
can come anytime to me. As if Allah was sending a message, or precisely
warning, to me through Miette’s dying. Watching how painful she was dying, I
got the conception of how I would be at the end of my life. While begging for
forgiveness to Allah, I told myself, “I have to stop any foolish acts and
prepare for my afterlife FROM NOW ON.” Who knows when Allah would call me home?
My job is only to be ready whenever the death angel takes me.
Hope you
can learn something from Miette’s death, just as I did.
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