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Something that not many people are aware of, however, is that basher and I, shared the same birth date. When I had gone to the shelter, with my dad, to pick a cat as my birthday present from him, weeks after the actual birthday, I instantly fell in love with basher. Dad wanted me to buy a Persian, but instead, I chose the lanky fellow and stuck to him. I became even more determined when I went closer to his cage and saw his birth date, same as mine. Dad agreed eventually and we brought him home.
It was a major struggle.
The lady at the shelter had told us that they had found basher on their doorsteps with health conditions unnatural for a kitten his age and that he was still recovering. Basher approached my finger in the shelter just fine, but when home, it was a different story. His pupils were dilated and his resistance to come out of the cage made me believe that he indeed was abused by humans. For the first two days after his home coming, he cried all throughout his stay, so much so that my dad suggested we take him back. (He's just a father who wanted best for his child.)However, I still tried to get him to play every day for a week while hand feeding him because he was still too young. And in about two weeks, we got comfortable sleeping together. I think, part of the reason why I have loved basher so much was because of all the time it took and the one sided efforts that I had to maintain, for fairly two months, to fully win his trust.
I had gotten him on my 5th birthday and though I have owned other cats, I have always been somewhat biased towards him.
Coming to it.
All was fine, until my birthday this year, 2016.
Because we share the same birthday, we celebrate together and every time on his birthday, I take him to the vet to make sure he is doing good before I feed him treats that might aggravate, something, if any.
Basher had been acting up a little lately, especially when I rubbed his behind. He would either move away, or show discomfort and I always figured he wasn't in the mood and did not touch him anymore. Mom, however, was not aware of it, and basher one day, lashed out at her when she was petting his butt. He did not bite or scratch her, I think, but she realized it sooner than me that something was up.So when I took him to the vet this time, they told me he had arthritis, which is the inflammation of joints. And in his case that was what was causing him to be sensitive. Adding to that, basher also had a semi paralyzed jaw, meaning, he wasn't able to eat his food properly, I would see his mouth hanging open at times.
Few of you, actually just two, who knew about it as it was happening, knew that I had been hand feeding basher since the past month, almost right after we came from the vet. I became extra cautious about his movements and resisted the temptation to pet him altogether. And I know basher sensed the tension too and sometimes, after night time, he would curl up next to me. Oh how I loved when he would come to me, but now, I felt like I had to sleep really stiff because I did not want to cause him any more pain by moving too much.
On the night of 13th May, basher refused to eat entirely. He was running into walls, and he could barely walk straight without falling. I had stopped letting him on my bed because my bed is somewhat high and I did not want him to fall off and hurt himself. But now that he could not walk as much, I let him sleep with me. That night, basher cried all night, just like he had when I had first got him. I closed the door so others won't get disturbed and because I could do nothing, I brushed my hand on his head, really gently, and cried with him as he came closer, using my hand as a pillow, trying to reassure me that it will all be okay. I knew then, what I had to do the next morning. My vet, my dad, everybody who had seen basher that way, had suggested I give him up but maybe I wasn't ready to. I was so much into saving myself from the suffering, to see my selfishness was causing him pain, which was growing every day. We went to the vet the next day and he did the necessary things as I teared up staring into his eyes. I have lost people, family, friends, but for some reason, the despair after watching him shut his eyes on me was the hardest to overcome. I have always tried being inviolable, hiding my emotions as much as I can, but that one cat broke me. I think because basher had been with me through everything for so long, that I had just assumed that things will always be this way. I was too naive getting attached to a life that wasn't even mine to begin with, but he loved me still, unconditionally, and that is the purest form of love I have ever experienced.
Basher (10-02-03 - 14-05-16), was and will remain the most friendly and understanding cat I could have ever bonded with, and I am sure, he's happy, in his little cat heaven, looking down guarding me.
