Our Kimi

We lost Kimi this morning.

I think it was most probably a heart attack, which should have been quick and painless.

He may also have been heartbroken and lonely, despite our best efforts, since Linus left on Sunday.

Either way, he is here no more and we have lost our funny, loving, bright-eyed baby boy.



We told him every day that we loved him, and yesterday, I spent all afternoon with him. I gave him his medicine and we had our usual grooming session. I helped him clean out his ear and gave his fur a brush and scratched him where he could no longer reach. Later, I took him to my desk in his treatie hut and held him with my right hand while I did my work (slowly) with my left, and curled my hand around him as he slept. He woke up every now and then and absent-mindedly groomed my hand. I stroked his fur as best I could in return and thanked him. Later, I sang silly songs to him... Kimi had a grooming song, several random songs, and a song about his big bright eyes, and he liked listening to them, even when I wasn't in tune or had forgotten the words. Kimi was a forgiving rattie.

This doesn't hurt as painfully as did Linus' passing last Sunday, probably because I don't think he suffered much at the end. Also, it feels selfish almost, wanting him to stay with us just because we loved being with him. He was always happy to hang out with us, especially liked sitting on chocolate boxes, and kept himself amused with chewing corners off junk mail pamphlets. He liked the shiny hot pink ones the best.



He was also a great food enthusiast, always accepting his yoggies with glee - there was once he was so excited about dinnertime (we always make a big deal out of it) that in jumping about excitedly, he lost his balance and fell off the level he was sitting on. Thankfully, he fell onto soft carpet, and was immediately handed his corn as consolation. Fresh corn on the cob may have been his favourite dinner food ever (there are many contenders for this title) and his favourite snack was probably dried pasta, specifically fusilli, which is the spiral shaped variety. He'd pick one up, carry it to a convenient place, settle down comfortably, and crunch his way around the spirals till the middle was left, then crunch his way through that as well. We could usually hear him from three rooms away when he was having pasta. :)

Kimi was a joy. When he looked at you with those big bright eyes you always felt understood and trusted. He was an easy rattie to fall in love with, and I fell in love with him every day.



Life may be simpler now without the countless medications and constant nursing care for two elderly rattieboys, but it is also emptier, quieter and colder.

I've prepared a box, made out of two empty pasta boxes, and wrote his name on it. In it, I wrote our names, with our love and thanks for the love and companionship he gave us. I've also prepared a parcel of yoggieballs, yoggies, dried pasta and fresh corn on the cob, for him to take with him, and to share with Linus if he gets to see him.

Meanwhile, Kimi is sitting on a bed of tissues, tucked away in his fleecy blanket on my lap. He's keeping me company till Bear comes home, and we can bury him next to Linus under the camellia bush.

...

I thought I was alright. As I type this, Bear has come home early from work, and has held Kimi and said his goodbyes. I thought I was ready, but I just couldn't seal his box up. He still looked like he was just having a little nap. I didn't think I could bear never seeing his sweet face again.

I'm getting so melodramatic. Kimi's left. and I have to say goodbye.

I wish I could bury him wrapped in a hug so he'll never feel cold.

I have to let it go. He doesn't need me anymore.



Goodbye my Kimibear, till we meet again.
Know how much we love you, and keep warm wherever you are.