I named him Popo.
Or Po, in short. Po looked like a baby panda at my first “Hi” to po. It was when the first time I found Po under the staircase, along with his sibling, that he was still this tiny, even fitted in my one palm.
Before anyone wonders, I did pick Po’s name, or was inspired, by the main character in Kung Fu Panda Movie, Master Po Ping.
Well, Po was once really this playful spirit. He plays, jumps, rolls—and bites a lot too (a.k.a. he likes ‘Kung-fu-ing’ me too like *wachauuw*).
He’s a pats demander, a chicken lover, a very curious little mischievous of mine. My constant mood-breaker. That Po’s tiny foot loves to follow me all around, in a way making me feel less lonely and importantly needed, are two of many things I love about Po.
It has been said by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in The Little Prince, “ …it is a very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become ‘presence’ means accepting the risk of ‘absence’”
Little did I know about this quote that always got me mesmerized; I thought it was merely a quote that would keep me reminded, in case someday, an inevitable event happens — which I surely wish not to be happening in anytime soon. I thought keeping that in mind probably could help one-self from the despair and prevent the unstoppable sorrow.
I’ve tried. But the reality always hits us this harshly. I found myself helpless as soon as I knew that I, once again, caught myself in this inevitable event.
Consciously knowing that Po’s absence is now the present that I get to face just broke my heart. It feels like something just carries me to a portal of cloud nine, then instantly throws me down, falling into this unfamiliar gravity.
It’s hard to see Po go. Been days, and I still cry my eyes over Po’s hair piles laying around, every of Po’s favorite spots, and to everyday habits of us. Letting go has never been so easy. The thought of losing Po this sooner never crossed my mind.
But at least one thing I realized after Po left, the feeling I had for Po all along is in so much abundance. Deep down, this furry friend had already sneaked into my heart into all my five-sense.
I could still feel Po’s touch, Po’s fluffy paws sticking to my skin. I could still feel the heaviness of Po, precisely when Po fell asleep on my chest — Po did grow a lot each day, and I praised Po for it.
I could still listen to Po’s purrs and sniffs that pleased my ears. I could still hear his collar bell ringing here and there. I could still smell Po’s scent of existence stayed at every corner. Po’s eyes are staring at me, and that wave of affection and tranquility washing over my soul, I could feel it still.
Po has taught me how to love. Po has made me in love — in spring. Po also taught me that, it is, a very condition of existence, the cold, the winter, the pain of being left by, the reality I should accept.
Hey Po, are you still here, right?
If you could still hear me, I wanted to say I’m sorry and I love you. Thank you for coming into my life, Po. You will always be my favorite cat.
I will live better so that we can meet again, okay?
— Fin
