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| Grace (Gracie) |
My sweet little Grace crossed the rainbow bridge today. I am absolutely devastated and still struggling to come to grips with the suddenness of her loss.
She arrived at our house on December 19, 2025. Although she stayed with us for just over 34 days, she left an indelible imprint on my heart and memories worth a lifetime.
I can never forget the moment she arrived at our house. My brother rescued her and brought her in, and immediately she jumped onto my lap and became comfortable. And then something special happened. She stared at me with her angelic eyes, without interruption, for one whole minute. It was the most beautiful, innocent, and priceless expression of love I have ever experienced. I kept asking her, “Why are you looking at me like that, sweetheart?” And when we finally broke our gaze after what felt like an eternity, I was so overwhelmed by her display of love that my eyes welled up. We created an instant bond that will last forever.
I affectionately called her Crazy Gracie because she was an absolute bundle of energy and chaos, and nothing was safe in her path of destruction. In terms of behaviour, she was more orange than most orange cats, and I loved her to death because of it.
She used to overwhelm Bowie, who is usually calm and laid-back, with her interminable energy and compel him to lash out at her. But she was fearless and made him run around the house in sheer terror. It was so entertaining to see Bowie, who has fought and defeated all the male cats in the neighbourhood, run for his life, chased by a kitten half his size. However, we knew he was humouring her, and deep down, he loved playing tag with her. Eventually, she wore him down, and they were on the verge of becoming inseparable. Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. I'm heartbroken for Bowie, who lost a dear friend and hasn't even realised it yet.
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| Bowie and Grace |
Sleeping on my chest was Gracie's favourite place to rest. As soon as I sat or lay on the couch, she used to jump onto me and playfully bite my fingers, toes, or arms. After calming down a bit, her soothing purrs engulfed my heart and ears before she slowly drifted off to sleep. This was our routine every day.
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| Gracie and Me |
I will fondly remember our playtimes together. She didn't need expensive toys; a neatly folded plastic cover held together with a rubber band was all it took to keep her occupied for hours. She was a clever girl who mostly made me run around the house and pick up her toys. It was almost as if she was playing me, and not the other way around.
Within a few weeks, she had become an irreplaceable part of our lives. But our happiness was fleeting. On January 19, she refused to eat her favourite creamy lickable treat, something she usually couldn't wait to eat off my hand. That night, she vomited multiple times and completely stopped eating food or drinking water thereafter. Over the next three days, we made several trips to the vet, who treated her for severe dehydration. On the second day, the fever had subsided, and the bile vomiting had almost stopped. However, she was still dehydrated and refused to eat or drink anything. My family and I tried everything to get her to eat, but our efforts were in vain.
Around this time, she started vocalising. They were neither her usual meows nor cries of pain. The haunting sounds she made are still ringing in my ears as I write this. It was almost as if she knew her time had come and was preparing us for the inevitable.
After the third day of tests and treatment, we brought Grace home. She started moving gingerly around the house. A mere six hours before her departure, she jumped onto the bed and slept on my lap for a few minutes. She then slept beside me for a while. I could see her struggling as she twisted and turned, trying to find the right position to lie down. Sometime later, she lay down next to my mother's feet, burying her face in her saree. Grace loved playing while curled up in my mom's saree. In hindsight, I believe she was saying her goodbyes.
At the stroke of midnight on January 23, she became completely disoriented, and her movements turned wobbly. We were absolutely shattered to see her in this state and broke down in tears. This spirited kitten, who ruled our hearts, climbed every window, curtain, and cabinet in an instant, and reached every nook and cranny of the house in a jiffy. Her energy was infectious and chaotic. It was devastating to see her deteriorate so badly in a mere three days.
Even though we knew she wasn't going to survive the night, we tried everything to hold on to her a little longer. At 12:50 a.m., I lay on the couch with Grace resting on my chest. As her breathing became laboured, she failed to respond to my reassuring words. I kept telling her to keep fighting. For some reason, I thought that if she survived the night, she might get better in the morning and start eating again. I was hoping a miracle would save my precious baby.
For forty minutes, I held her on my chest as she took her last few excruciating breaths. Her breathing pattern is still fresh in my mind: three to four fast breaths, followed by a big heave. In her final moments, her survival instincts kicked in, and she started kicking with her hind legs and made a running motion with her front legs. As this motion stopped abruptly after three intense seconds, her front paws hung briefly in the air. That image will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Immediately, I sat up on the couch while holding her. At exactly 01:29 a.m., Grace took her final breath and passed away gracefully in my arms. It felt as though my entire life came to a standstill for a fleeting moment. In the morning, we performed her last rites and cremated her at a local pet crematorium.
I love you, Gracie. Your brief existence made a profound impact on my life and left a huge void in my heart that will never be filled. Thank you for the memories. Rest easy, my baby, until we meet again!
