I remember bugging my dad to allow me to keep her for the time being.
And he agreed.

I remember gently picking her up with trembling hands and placing her carefully in a shoebox.
She continued to wail loudly while she sniffed around the shoebox.

I remember the excitement and elation that flooded me as I stroke the tiny cotton ball look-alike kitten.
And how I felt the need to protect this fragile and delicate thing and nurse her back to health.

I remember feeding her with my inexperienced hands.
How I would have to pacify her into opening her mouth whenver she refused to drink;
How I would have to use a tiny spoon to painstakingly pour drops of milk into her tiny little mouth.

I remember how she wouldn't stop crying in the beginning despite any attempts to comfort her.
I would touch her little pink nose, allowing her to sniff at my fingers to get used to my scent.

I remember the way she tucked her head into a corner of the shoebox while she drifted off to sleep.
I soon came to know that it was her favourite sleeping position.

I remember how my brother and I would disturb her while she was taking an afternoon nap;
How we would tickle her ears just to see them twitch in protest.

I remember how she would wail incessantly as she tried to escape from the shoebox;
Clawing desperately at the sides till she tipped over the box.
She would then cease crying, sniff around curiously and would invariably end up falling asleep in my brother's slippers.

I remember how much she enjoyed being tickled.
The way she would flop over and lay on her back while I stroke her stomach;
The way her hind legs stretched and bucked as if she was enjoying it immensely.

I remember her chasing after my mom's painted toe nails.
How her eyes huge black eyes would stare fixedly at those red-coloured nails, never letting them out of her sight while she lunged suddenly at them.

I remember cleaning her up with a piece of cloth;
The way she would shut her eyes tightly while I dabbed away at her face;
The way she would stare accusingly at me after that.

I remember placing her tiny little paws on my fingers;
How pink and cold her pads had felt against my skin.

I remember how tiny she looked;
The way her entire body fitted easily into my palm.
The way she looked like a little white rat with a long black tail when she curled up to sleep.

I remember how much she loved it when I stroke her head and behind her ears;
How her eyes would slowly close;
How soft her fur had felt.

I remember putting her on my lap while I cuddled her.
And how she would lay contentedly while she licked and gently gnawed at my fingers.

I remember feeding her with the nursing bottle.
The cute way she would mew and the way she would stand on her hind legs as she sucked away urgently.

I remember holding her up and gently patting her back after feeding.
How she would either cling on tightly to my fingers or squirm to be freed.

I remember how she would come to me when I clapped my hands.
She would walk unsteadily towards my outstretched hand and stopped as if expected to be rewarded with a pet.

I remember tucking her in every night.
How I would watch her little tummy's rhythmic rising and falling to ensure that she has fallen asleep, before heading off to bed myself.

I remember feeling irritated whenever she peed or pooed.
How I would chide her as I clean her up.

I remember not spending enough time with her as I busied myself with school activites.
And how much I regretted it now.

I remember.. I remember..





I remember burying her yesterday.

I remember waking up to feed her in the morning as I always do.

I remember petting her head to wake her up, and how she did not respond.

I remember how unnaturally stiff her body had felt as I touched her usually warm and soft stomach.

I remember the way she looked when I realised that she had slipped away into the night; Her mouth slightly agape and her eyes closed.

As if she was still fast asleep.

I remember my mom wrapping her in the cloth that I used to clean her with and buried her outside our house.

I remember sobbing uncontrollably as I watched her being buried from afar.

I remember how I couldn't accept the fact that she was gone just like that.

How wrong it had felt to cover her up in soil, how it would dirty her body when I was always trying to keep her clean.

How weird it had felt to know that she is now lying in the ground when just a few hours ago she was still in the shoebox.

I remember feeling so empty and broken after the burial.

I remember so so much, though it has just been a short three weeks.




I remember the day I took her in.

And the impact that she had made in my life







I love you so much Cotton