August Requiem Redux
Year two of life without our Haalubaba
Yet another year has passed, our pale blue dot has once again circumnavigated the sun since I wrote last in sorrowful remembrance of our dearly departed Pudge Clementine Haalubaba. But the elapsed time had done precious little to assuage our grief or pour any soothing salve in the Haalu-shaped hole that he left in our hearts when he shuffled off this mortal coil two Augusts ago. The screensavers on our TV screens are still set to project photos of our furbabies whenever the cable or the streaming services go inactive, and for some reason, for the past several months, Haalubaba in various moods has been featured on screen every time the TV operation has been paused. I had not realized how much we still yearn for that oh-so-familiar, distinct “Maau” call that used to permeate our household and reverberate in our hearts. Today, on the occasion of the second anniversary of Haalubaba’s passing, I wanted to share three distinctive examples of the essence of Haaluness. Why? Because being able to write about him is cathartic for me.
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Haaluness 1: There was a time (spanning months, even a few years) when every evening at around 8 pm Haalu would dutifully leave any gathering at the living room (human, cat, or human-and-cat), walk up the stairs to our bedroom using his peculiar 1–2, 1–2 stair-climbing rhythm (which I have mentioned elsewhere on this medium), jump up on our bed, and fall asleep. Like clockwork, regardless of whatever preceding activity was taking place. This nap would last for about an hour, following which we would get to hear a familiar dull thunk signifying the leap with which he disembarked from the bed with his glorious embonpoint. It meant that the next few seconds would find him descending using his special cadence, characterized by his style of using both hindlimbs together in bunny-esque hops, while we wait with bated breaths. From the stairs, he would make a beeline to where we sat on the chair or couch, and all would be right with the world again.
Haaluness 2: Ever since my wife introduced our furbabies to the litterbox with great deliberation, Haalu exhibited a peculiar behavior which used to amuse our one-and-only veterinarian, Dr. Barker, to no end. We had given one largish litterbox apiece to Haalu and his brother-from-another-mother, Widget Greything Baghum. The naive hope was that each would use his own litterbox to complete his own business. But of course, human proposes, cat disposes — as any self respecting human to cat or cats is aware. We soon realized that they meticulously peed in one and pooped in the other litterbox. Haalu was our champion pooper in both form and output quantity — Baghum was no match, in spite of the fact that both survived on the sole nourishment provided by Baghum’s prescription hydrolyzed protein urinary “SO” diet kibbles, and that Haalu was never much for eating anything else, except for the occasional Tuna flakes, freeze-dried salmon bits, Tres Leches cake from Whole Foods or milky rice pudding (a.k.a. paayesh) from one specific Pakistani restaurant near our workplace — the operative word being “occasional.” Yes, Haalu — unlike Baghum — has always been rather persnickety about what he put in his mouth. But the actual story is not his fastidious eating habits. Haalu, after completing his business at the litterbox, would meticulously cover everything up. But he took upon himself an additional duty. Baghum would expeditiously decamp as soon as his evacuation was complete, bothering (or not) to make only a perfunctory attempt to cover up his stuff. Haalu would then enter the scene in Ac 2 and, with the inestimable patience of a well-paid crime scene cleaner, would obliterate any trace of Baghum’s excreta by painstaking overlay of litter. This happened every single day across two to three litterboxes.
Haaluness 3: Haalu always aspired to be our library lion. Ever since he was a bitty catlet, he had a penchant for climbing our vertical book cases, either unassisted from the front (shelf-side) or with a little occasional assist from the flat side (as I have written elsewhere in this medium). However, as he grew older and his girth expanded, he wised up and desisted from further vertical adventures.
Haammu, wherever you are, I hope you are free of pain and getting your fill of paayesh. I shall see you in a little while.
