For those who know me, they will know how much I love my cats, and for some, it might be even excessive. I announce the sudden and unexpected death of mommy's baby girl Mochi at 1 year and 4 months with great sadness. |
On the morning of Jan 25, I woke up to Mac's meows and efforts to wake me up earlier than his usual "demand" for food. Thinking he wanted food, I got up to feed them both but noticed Mochi didn't come to the food bowl. She always came, as soon as she hears my shrieking voice "BABIES~~ TIME FOR FOOD!!! And clinking the feeding bowls. I went looking for her and found her in her usual sleeping corner. She looked fast asleep, and I tried to wake her up. As soon as I laid my hands on her soft silky fur, I knew something was wrong. She was cold, stiff and unresponsive. I felt my heart sink and tried to move her, but rigor mortis has already set in, as if she was frozen in time. In denial, I tried doing CPR on my precious baby while in the taxi to the vet (as I got into a car accident the day before), but she was too far gone. The rest was a blur - from the vets telling me she was officially dead to the crazy slurries of finalizing paperwork for her cremation.
I decided to proceed with an autopsy to find out what caused Mochi's sudden death and maybe prevent it from happening to my other fur-babies. Still, ultimately even with an autopsy, I may never know. Mochi was completely fine and just had her yearly checkup 1 month ago, with the vet saying she was perfectly healthy. She was jumping around and had ZERO signs of anything wrong leading up to the event, was chomping down on food and cuddling with me at midnight. However, rag dolls' are prone to HOCM (hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy), a genetic heart condition that can cause sudden cardiac death. Up to 30% of Ragdolls carry the HOCM gene, with a small percent of them ultimately dying before 3. My baby Mochi may have had bad luck, being autosomal recessive for both HOCM genes, resulting in her sudden heart attack and untimely death. However, this is all speculation, and I may likely never know.
I will never forget the moment I found Mochi's lifeless body in the closet. It will take me quite a while before I feel comfortable even going into that part of my closet where Mochi enjoyed her little naps. I had raised Mochi since she was 8 weeks old when she was just containable in the two palms of my hands. But I will also never forget the little fluffy ball of fur she was and how much joy she brought into my life. I will always remember her machine-like purrs, so loud to the point where I couldn't even listen to her heart and lungs. I will never forget her docile nature and loved napping with me in the afternoons between my legs. She was mac's best sibling and best friend, despite their occasional arguments in the bathtub on whose turn it was to "play attack." She never judged how messy the apartment was and always welcomed me home at the door, sitting patiently at the doormat.
Even her slightly weird quirks, I'll cherish and love forever. Mochi loved feet and always headbutted my foot as soon as I stuck it out, no matter how stinky it was (haha). She was not the most agile cat and would often fall and accidentally run into furniture when she was chasing toys around. I will always remember her love for counters and being quite "persistent" regarding her passion for cold quartz countertops. She loved the fridge so much that she would immediately jump in and stay there until I had to physically drag her fluffy body out every time I opened it.
Mochi was my child - losing her so suddenly has been devastating for me and those who loved her very much. She was such a well behaved cat, never scratched furniture, never woke people up in the middle of the night, and always asked for attention like a polite lady. I have been crying on and off, feeling like my heart has been stabbed with a thousand arrows. Even when someone mentions her name or even brings up about their cat in conversation, I would feel like my grief is pouring out of my body and would have trouble containing my tears. Some people may never understand why I am grieving so hard, saying that "it's just a cat," but those who know me knew I loved these cats more than ANYTHING in the world. They were my children, and Mochi was MY girl. I have stayed up with her all night the first few days she came home just to make sure she was eating and not crying for her cat-mommy. I syringe fed her food slurry mixed in with meds when she was sick. I did everything I could to give her the best life she truly deserved. She brought so much joy to not only me but those around her as well.
She was docile, calm and fiercely independent in front of others- softening up and refusing to leave my side 24/7 when we are alone. She welcomed change, never freaked out at the Roomba, and said hi to other kitties and doggies with open arms. Mochi may have had a short life on earth, but she passed away likely peacefully and will have a fulfilling life at the Rainbow Bridge. Hopefully, one day I will join her at the bridge with Mac Mac when the time comes. I love you, Mochi.