Moments before my alarmclock was about to go off, Kuzco snuggled his head against mine. I pushed my nose to the side of his head, right between his eye and flappy ear. I felt the tiny hairs made room for my nose, and I inhaled deeply. I smelled his fur, soft and sweet from the baby hairwater I always cover him in. I feel myself spinning around with Kuzco in my arm. We are dancing. And even though I am smiling, and laughing out loud, kissing his snout, my body is aching so hard.
I opened my eyes, because the pain was unbearable. I felt my hair sticking to the side of my face. My pillow was all wet, and so were my eyes. Then I realized the cold and bitter truth. Kuzco, my little baby boy, my muse, my everything, was gone.
It all happened about three weeks ago. I went to the vet with Kuzco, because for a while now, he only seemed to lose weight, even though I kept upping his amount of kibble and treats almost daily. The vet examined him, took blood tests, and a urine sample. A few hours later he called me back with the results, and they were bad. Very bad. His liver was working poorly, his hemoglobin levels were very low, and so much more was going wrong in his body. His weight loss was due to severe muscle reduction. The only thing we could do, was to visit an internist at an animal hospital to do some more tests, and hopefully they could come up with something to help Kuzco get better. I immediately called the animal hospital to make an appointment. The only date available was three weeks later. I called other hospitals for any time sooner. But due to the Covid-19, I was told I should be happy we are even helped at all. There was nothing to it but to except the three weeks wait.
Four days before our appointment, Kuzco’s health got worse. So much so, that on the evening before, he collapsed while he was peeing on his last walk for the day. I was so shocked, I screamed out his name. And when he didn’t respond, I lifted him up, but his head was hanging down. My body was shaking all over, and I cried. I couldn’t even contain my voice while crying. I screamed and howled between the sobbing and crying like those mediterranean women often do, which I hate. Just cry silently, with a nose snort here and there. But that’s all the noise you should make when crying. I could never understand why they have to be so loud. But now, I didn’t care. After I said his name again, he lifted his head, and looked at me with such sad eyes. I carried him home, and it became very clear from that moment; this is not ending well.
The next day, after I called the vet, I put everything in my bag I needed to bring, and got in the car with Ramon, Malha and Kuzco. We decided that his very best friend, his stuffed animal, Jaap the sheep, should join Kuzco on his last big journey. Jaap has shared every adventure, and every emotional state with Kuzco ever since he was only a little puppy. So it was only fitting Jaap should stay with Kuzco to watch his back when he gets scared, and keep him company.
We went to see my sister and her kids, my parents, and Ramon his mother. We wanted them to have the chance for a last big cuddle with our baby boy, and shower him with kisses from the trunk of the car, while we walked away to give them room to say their goodbyes, due to the covid-19. It’s weird not to be able to hug each other, just when you need it the most. But we were glad, we got the chance to do this.
Just minutes before the most dreaded time of our live, I went out of the car to buy some fish at the harbour. I didn’t feel like cooking dinner at all. I left Kuzco on Ramon his lap, so Ramon could have a little quality time. It was the best of times, of the worst of times. Kuzco enjoyed the warmth of the sun, and Ramon his arms that held him tight. He was so relaxed to feel safe in Ramon his arms and meanwhile keeping me in his view, to know I will return with something nice. I got back into the car, took Kuzco on my lap, and we drove what felt like the longest short drive to the vet.
And then the sun felt like swords cutting through our hearts.
Kuzco wobbled over to me after the vet gave him his first shot. I sat on the ground with my legs crossed and Jaap already on my left leg. He stepped on my legs to lie on his favourite spot. He lost his balance and I grabbed his little body to put him in his usual position. And there he died. My baby, my muse, my everything died in my lap. Malha washed his face while he was still breathing, but when he stopped, she sniffed at his nose, and walked away. I had to put his tiny fragile lifeless body on the table. I made sure he lay comfortable with Jaap tightly against his chest, and his right paw over his stuffed animal which was his best friend since he was eight weeks old.
One last kiss.
No, another one….
I have to close my eyes and squeeze them hard, to be able to turn away from my baby.
Take good care of my baby, Jaap.
Goodbye my little prince.