Missing Daffodil And Gingers Updates
AnimalCare 
Sep 19, 2017 
AnimalCare, NGOs 
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Today is exactly a week since Daffodil crossed over to Rainbow Bridge. I still miss her very much and I think of her very often. Whenever I do, it’s a gentle reminder to do some good and acts of kindness and to share the merits with her.
I have always thought that passing of old age is “easier” to bear and to accept, but truth be told, it isn’t. And it wasn’t that I wasn’t prepared or that it came as a shock. It didn’t. The vet already told us Daffi had a weak heart and if she were to go, it would be her heart giving way, not the tumour causing any further damage. True enough, that was what happened. It was heart failure. And of course that would happen to anyone when it’s time to go.
The facts are “easy”. It’s logical. It makes sense. Everyone has to go one day. And heart failure is probably “better” than any painful illness or prolonged suffering, none of which Daffi had and we are grateful for that. She was happy and active until the end. What more can anyone ask for?
And yet….my logical mind is not helping me cope any easier this time.
Rosie’s passing was traumatising for me. She was very ill and it was getting worse every day. I was very traumatised. Daffodil’s passing was very peaceful. A friend even described Daffodil’s passing as “blessed”, and that is true. But why isn’t it any easier to bear?
I was all prepared to nurse Daffodil, thinking she might need subcut fluids or handfeeding. But Daffodil ‘by-passed” all that. I’ve always written (as I believed) that unlike humans, animals know when to let go. When it’s time to go, they accept and they rest. Maybe that’s what happened with Daffodil. She knew it was time to go. Maybe she didn’t want to go through all the nursing care, being incapacitated and being dependent.
It’s the Calico pride in her. And we all know how proud Daffodil was. Strong, courageous, stoic…right till the end. She decided for herself. She would not go down. She would just rest. In peace.
As dainty and petite she was, Daffodil was still a matriarch.
Maybe it’s hard for me to come to terms with her passing because I didn’t get a chance to provide the nursing care that I was all prepared to do, which I would gladly have done. Maybe that is why. But I ought to be thankful that Daffodil did not need any nursing care and that she was not incapacitated in any way at all because if she was, that would have been uncomfortable for her. Especially for someone as proud as her.
Last week was supposed to be a busy week for me. I was already making plans to stay home as much as I could, thinking of how I might have to cancel certain arrangements so that I could stay home if Daffodil needed me. The indication that made me prepare for the worst was her significant weight loss. But Daffodil chose to go on a Tuesday, which, coincidentally, was a day I had no classes (last week) thus enabling me to spend the crucial 8 hours with her after she passed on. It is an ancient Chinese belief that the consciousness might take up to 8 hours to “end” or “leave” (whichever concept one believes in, ie. “end” or “leave”). There may be no more heart or brain activity, but something intangible called the consciousness may still be there. It takes time to end completely (or leave completely). And I was able to spend that 8 hours with Daffodil, in peace and solitude. I sat beside her throughout, with Tiger by my side. She looked so peaceful. I refreshed the flowers from time to time too.
In a way, wasn’t it kind of Daffodil to allow me to do all this for her? Last rites and funerals are all for the living, so that they may do something for their beloved departed ones…for that one last time. It’s for us. It’s not for them.
It’s been a week now and I still miss her so much.
Her house (cardboard box) is still in the kitchen. We’ve kept it there. And there are still some stains on some of the covers. The stains come from her tumour previously, and though we have been cleaning off the stains, some have remained even after several washings and now I want those stains to remain. Those will be tiny reminders of what it used to be. There’s even a card which Daffodil sat on and there’s a stain on that card. It’s funny, isn’t it, that previously, we were cleaning off the stains many times a day, and now, I just want to keep those stains for as long as I can.
Meanwhile, life has to go on. Ginger is adjusting. He’s back to his routine of waiting for me at Stargate2 as I drive into the porch and coming to the front door to wait as I enter.
In between, he spends a lot of time with us. He likes to be groomed a lot, so we do that for him.
We probably have hundreds of photos of the Bird Family, but I found this in my camera, taken shortly after Rosie’s passing.
Daffodil, mother-of the year. We will always remember.
Source: https://myanimalcare.org/2017/09/19/missing-daffodil-and-gin..
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