gentleman rex

When I left for work this morning, I kissed my beloved cat Rex goodbye, knowing it would be the last time.

Rex had been ailing for about three months. The vet discovered that he was jaundiced, which meant that his liver and kidneys were in trouble. When he continued to lose weight despite medication, he was hospitalised for over a week.

Being kept on a drip with round-the-clock medical care for eight days didn't improve anything. Instead, his jaundice got worse and he refused to eat. Despite our visiting him twice a day, every day, he just got sadder and sadder.

So we tried leaving him at the vet's for the day and taking him home with us in the evenings. He liked that a lot better but he caught on really quickly. After the second morning of being carted to the vet's on our way to the office, he hid under the bed on the third morning when he saw us getting ready for work.

Worse, his condition did not improve.

In the end, after speaking to the vet, who assured us that Rex was not in pain, we agreed that we would all be much happier if we just took him home. So on the night of Nov 13, we picked him up from the vet's after work.

No medication was given for him. We all knew that he was coming home to spend his last days.

What we all did not expect was that he would live for a whole month more.

But Rex has always been the epitome of grace and love. He was a gentle soul, peace-loving and patient with everyone. He could always be counted on to accept a new arrival in the house, and even when the younger cats were extra naughty or annoying, he seldom lost his temper.

In all his 14 years, the times when he actually lost his cool and smacked one of the other cats never failed to surprise us -- proof of how few and far between such instances were.

I called him Gentleman Rex because he always did the right thing and had such a charming, courtly way about him.

And oh, how he loved us. I didn't realise how much until now.

Because he was no longer eating, the vet had advised us to simply syringe small amounts of chicken soup, water, an isotonic drink, and even a solution of glucose and water into his mouth at regular intervals throughout the day.

So we would make different Chinese-style soups for him every day -- chicken one day, pork ribs the next, fish the day after. We wanted him to get whatever nutrients he could take in. He didn't like it, but Rex, ever the gentleman, patiently accepted our awkward, amateurish attempts at syringeing liquids into his mouth.

We spent as much time as we could with him before and after work, and we brought him up on our bed to sleep with us at nights. Sometimes we'd put him on the bed first and potter around a little more before coming to bed, and he would sit up alertly, watching and waiting for us to join him. Then he would walk on unsteady legs to lie between our pillows.

Every morning, he would wake up just after 6 because breakfast for the other cats is about 6.30, and he knew that once everyone had had their breakfast, it would be his turn for some soup. And then I would carry him out into the garden for some fresh air, where he could watch the others play.

I would sit outside with him every morning, until he decided he'd had enough and turn towards home. Then I'd bring him in, towel-dry the dew from the grass off him, and settle him down on a fresh towel under the bed, where he liked to be the rest of the day.

Last Friday morning, after being home for three weeks, he rose from where he'd been sitting on the grass for several minutes and walked away from the house.

"Don't go too far, Rex," I said to him. "Mummy'll come get you soon."

He turned back to look at me and then carried on walking.

I'll join him soon, I said to myself. He's too weak to go too far, anyway.

And then i got distracted by something.

Minutes later, I walked in the direction Rex had gone and realised he was nowhere in sight. I panicked. I couldn't believe he could have moved so quickly and so far in his condition.

The thought that he had gone into hiding in order to die, as animals do, crossed my mind but I pushed it away because I could not accept that I had lost him.

But I had.

I can't remember how many times I combed the grounds of the condominium estate, stooping low to sweep aside leaves and underbrush, looking into drains and calling his name. I couldn't stop weeping because I blamed myself for allowing him to disappear.

People who saw me that day must have thought I was mad. Because for eight hours, at regular 15-to-20 minute intervals, this red-eyed, dishevelled woman would comb the grounds, calling for Rex and invoking the angels for help.

I ventured further afield to search the nearby canal, which is connected to the drains in and around my estate. I walked along the roads surrounding my estate, looking into drains and calling his name. My worst fear was that he had gotten lost in the network of drains and would be swept out to sea when it rained.

And the sky threatened to open up that day. I prayed to God for help: Please don't let it rain.

I begged Archangel Michael to protect and find him.

I pleaded with Archangel Raphael to continue nursing him, making sure he was not in any pain or suffering.

And I called for both Rex's and my guardian angels to bring him back to me.

I prayed for a miracle and I got it.

Eight hours later, I went on yet another round of the estate, still pleading with the archangels and angels as I scoured for Rex. And I saw him.

Almost obscured behind some tall grass, he was tentatively peering around him. My heart stopped. I couldn't be sure it was him as I was still fairly far away, but I wasn't taking any chances. I ran as fast as I could and jumped down a high ledge, hurting my wrist in the process, to get to him before he disappeared again.

It was him. He didn't realise it was me at first and tried to run when he saw me coming towards him. But I managed to catch him and lift his frail, slight body into my arms. The moment he realised it was me, he purred.

I walked home with him held tightly in my arms, thanking God, the archangels, Rex's guardian angel, my guardian angel and all the angels who had been with the both of us all this time. All I can say is, I understand what the Bible means when it talks about how the angels in heaven rejoice when the shepherd finds his lost sheep.

The thanksgiving that filled my heart overflowed. I could feel the angels and archangels sharing my joy, just as Brian (who had been struggling to work despite his fear and worry) and Jordan (who'd had to go to school that day) did when I told them I'd found Rex.

And through it all, not a drop of rain fell around my estate, although I heard later that there had been heavy rain in many parts of the island that day.

Rex stayed with us for another week before finally going home, into the light, at 11.58am today. Sadly, Brian and I had to leave him in the loving care of our maid Rowena earlier on because we had to go to work.

How I wanted to call in sick, but as I had actually been on medical leave just a few days before because of a particularly virulent stomach virus, I couldn't do it with a clear conscience. And Fridays are the heaviest work days for both Brian and me.

And so we stroked, cuddled and kissed him one last time this morning. We thanked him for coming into our lives 14 years ago to gift us with his love. We told him what a difference he had made, what joy he had given us, how much we loved him, how we would always be a family, and that we would be together again.

We told him it would be okay for him to go when it was time, that Archangel Michael had promised he would pick him up in his strong, protective and loving arms and walk with him into the light, that Archangel Raphael had and would continue to take away all pain so that he would remain comfortable, and that his guardian angel would carry on loving and watching over him.

He was too weak to purr, slipping in and out of sleep as we sat with him. Then just before we had to leave, he suddenly stiffened and stretched and called out. Immediately we gathered closer, reaffirming our love and telling him not to be afraid to go into the light if it was time.

We thought it was the end. But then I noticed that he was still breathing, although very shallowly. And he seemed to be sleeping. I actually could feel Michael's presence and I knew it was almost time for Rex to go.

We couldn't do anything more. We had made the necessary arrangements for his burial and we were already late for work.

Reluctantly, our hearts breaking, we left the house. And over an hour later, Rex passed on. He never woke up from his sleep.

Looking back, I believe that Rex probably did go away to die the week before.

But because we were so distraught by his disappearance, and because I prayed so hard for God and the angels to bring him home to us, I believe the archangels and angels had a talk with him, explaining the situation.

I believe that Rex, out of great love for us, chose to come home to save us from heartbreak.

For why else would he, in such sickly and weakened state, have come out of hiding after eight long hours?

And I believe that because he told them he would return to us, the angels helped to orchestrate my finding him -- for I was led to the place where he appeared out of nowhere at just the right time, for me to spot him.

Last but not least, I also believe that the first time he stretched and called out this morning was the actual time for him to go, because I felt Michael's presence so strongly. But Rex chose to stay on for just a while longer, to be sure that Brian and I had really accepted and made peace with his leaving. And God and the angels granted this for all our sakes.

I am both awed and humbled by the power of such love. How blessed we are to be loved so much and so well.

Thank you, my beloved Rex. Till we meet again, my perfect gentleman.



Visiting Rex while he was hospitalised. Both his paws were swollen from the constant intravenous drip that he was on.

getting to know gabriel

The more I work with the angels, the more miracles occur in my life. And I am constantly awed by the way God and His messengers work.

Yesterday was the first time that I conducted a two-hour session called Get To Know Gabriel.

As with the Meet Michael session, I read up and researched on Gabriel and trusted her to guide and help me come up with a guideline for the workshop.

While preparing for Gabriel's session, I was struck by the difference in response this time around.

When I announced my intention to conduct both archangel sessions, I received several emails and phone texts inquiring about the Meet Michael session. Many people expressed their keenness to attend the session, excited about meeting Michael and learning to connect and work with him.

No one wrote or called to ask about Gabriel's workshop.

Right up to yesterday morning, as I meditated and prepared for the afternoon session, I had no idea if anyone would even turn up.

Poor Gabriel, I thought. Everybody knows Michael and wants to connect with him, but no one seems very keen on getting to know and working with you.

About five minutes before 3pm, when the session was supposed to begin, the first person arrived. And then the second person came. In the end, four people turned up -- two more than had turned up for Michael's session.

And the session went wonderfully.

While Michael, whom I am particularly connected to, gave physical proof of his presence by turning over a pendant that had been placed on the altar, Gabriel proved her presence in a different way:

By quietly preparing and working on the hearts and lives of those who eventually turned up for the session well before yesterday, very likely without their even realising it. For after it was over, they privately shared with me that they had all been keen to attend Michael's session but had somehow been unable to make it in the end.

Yet after Gabriel's session, they realised they had probably needed to work with her softer, gentler but no less powerful energy before working with Michael.

And, as usual, I came away with a lesson too: Never underestimate the angels.

I needn't have worried for Gabriel. I'm glad she has a sense of humour and didn't take offence at my little "poor you" spiel.

And oh, have I mentioned how awestruck I am... again?

meeting michael

For the first time yesterday, I conducted a mini workshop called Meet Michael, a two-hour session where I help people forge a closer connection and bond with Archangel Michael.

As the world and humanity as a whole continue to move onto a higher level of consciousness and being, the angels and archangels are working hard to connect with more people so that they can help and work with them.

For a while now, I've been receiving messages to start conducting a series of simple Meet The Archangel sessions. This would help more people to get to know the archangels a little more, and to realise and learn that they can connect with them on a personal level and receive help, guidance and healing from them in their lives.

So several weeks ago, I took the plunge and let the word out that I would be conducting a Meet Michael session, which took place yesterday afternoon; and a Get To Know Gabriel session this coming Saturday.

I didn't have very much to go on as to how to conduct the sessions and what to say or do during them. All I knew was that the archangels wanted very much to reach out to more people so that they could make a difference in their lives.

For the past few weeks, I have been reading up on Archangel Michael and calling on him for help and guidance with coming up with the outline for the session.

As the day of the first session drew near, I could feel Michael's presence growing stronger by the day. Three days before the session, I found myself gravitating towards the colour blue in my wardrobe, and I automatically reached for my angel themed jewellery when I got dressed for work.

Blue and gold are the Archangel Michael's colours. And I realised that my soul was invoking him to come to my aid as I prepared to conduct the workshop on a spiritual as well as mental and emotional level.

Books on the archangels came my way as I began my reading and research work. I took notes of what nuggets of information I could incorporate into the sessions. Then early Friday morning, I sat out in the garden and, in an hour, finished the outline for the session that I would be conducting the following day.

The day arrived, and I wondered who would or would not make it to the workshop. I firmly believe that the angels and divinities lead and guide those who are ready to connect or work with them to the courses, readings or healings that they eventually turn up for. Nothing works by chance or coincidence.

Sometimes, there will be little "tests" -- perhaps a sudden cold or a little crisis at home or at work -- that will crop up unexpectedly just before the session.

I often get people texting me just before the course/reading/healing that they signed up for, to tell me that they suddenly feel under the weather, or that something happened at home, or that they had to work till late the night before and are now too tired to make it. They will either ask me if they should still come anyway, or send their regrets and say they won't be turning up after all.

Despite the disappointment, I've learned to let it go. For it is not for me to judge the whys and the wherefores.

Many times, it is simply a matter of divine timing. Perhaps the person involved wasn't quite ready for a reading or healing or workshop yet, but needed to come to the point where he or she consciously made the decision to attend it. That alone is a powerful healing, and a huge step forward on his or her spiritual path. I also know that the person will eventually turn up for the reading or healing or workshop when the time is right for him or her.

And when someone asks me to make a decision for him or her, or to ask the angels to tell them whether he or she should come anyway, I make it clear that I cannot tell them what to do. For when it comes to choices of the spirit, the decision has to be completely yours. I have no right to persuade or advise you either way. And the angels would already have given you clear signs. All you have to do is follow your heart.

So it was that only two of the four people who had confirmed their attendance made it to yesterday's session. A fifth person unexpectedly turned up just before we were about to begin. She ended up deciding not to attend the session but left her crystal on the altar to be cleansed, cleared and blessed by Michael anyway.

It was awkward, but I accepted it as something that was meant to be, and I knew that there probably was a lesson here for me.

The session went well, as I knew it would. From the moment I called his name and invited him to come into the room and clear the space, Michael made his presence known -- the fiery warmth of his energy made us all perspire despite having both the air-conditioning and fan on.

But the best part came at the end, when I asked the attendees to collect the crystals and crystal jewellery that they had placed on the altar for Michael to cleanse, clear and bless.

We noticed that one pendant -- the one belonging to the woman who had decided against attending -- had turned turtle. We had watched it being placed carefully on the altar, and no one had touched anything during the session.

Obviously, Michael wanted to give us some proof of his presence.

More importantly, I believe he left a personal message for me: That God and the angels can turn seemingly negative situations into miracles.

guinness my darling

We lost our beloved Guinness this afternoon. She was 13.

For the past couple of months, she had been having occasional bouts of a hacking cough. Visits to the vet didn't help, as the doctor couldn't detect anything wrong with her.

No matter how badly she coughed at home, when we brought her to see the vet, all coughing stopped and she always seemed fine.

One morning about a month ago, we found her upstairs gasping for breath. We rushed her to the vet's and again, the doctor on duty could not find anything wrong. She prescribed some antibiotics and some pills that would open her air passage to help her breathe.

Guinness was fine until over a week ago. Jordan came home from school and found her gasping for breath in the balcony. We rushed her to the vet and, yet again, came home with just more pills to help her breathe.

Basically, the other vet on duty that day said that given her age, nothing much could be done for her as she seemed generally okay except for the wheezing. It was probably her lungs, he said -- she's like an old person struggling to breathe.

So we spent this past week watching her carefully. It didn't help that Rex, who is 14, caught a cold over two weeks ago and got steadily worse. When we brought him to the vet's, he had to stay overnight for some tests and the vet discovered that he was very jaundiced -- meaning his kidney and liver were in trouble.

He ended up being hospitalised for eight days.

We went twice a day every day to visit him, but no matter what they tried at the clinic, blood tests showed that Rex's jaundice was getting worse. At his age, the vet did not think a biopsy would be a good idea, for even if he recovered from the surgery, there was no guarantee that he would recover from whatever it was that was causing the jaundice.

After eight days of hospitalisation, where he grew more depressed, the vet said we could bring him home. But because he still wasn't eating, we agreed to bring him into the clinic every morning, where they could give him medication and nutrients intravenously during the day, and we'd take him home in the evenings.

We did this for four days, but yet another blood test showed that it wasn't helping. In the end, we decided to bring him home last Thursday night, and take care of him as best as we can. The vet agreed that he would be happier.

Unfortunately, during this period, Guinness got worse.

She lost her appetite and the asthma-like attacks became more frequent. All we could do was watch her closely, give her the breathing pills and feed her water and food through a syringe.

For the past five nights, I have been sleeping on the floor, between Guinness and Rex, to talk to them, to let them know how much they are loved, and to make sure that I am on hand to render help and medication immediately should they get in distress.

Rex has been relatively steady since he came home, but Guinness steadily worsened.

On her worst day last week, we had to pop those breathing pills into her once every four hours (the vet had recommended giving it to her three times a day and reducing it to once a day when she got better). I honestly thought it was touch-and-go that day.

But somehow she made it through the day and night, and stabilised by late morning the next day.

I think she chose to stay on a little longer so she could let us know how much she loved us.

Despite struggling for breath, she made the effort to make eye contact and purr whenever we "talked". She hated having to take the pill, which sometimes distressed her so much that it would make her hyperventilate. But she always forgave us, and showed she understood by purring when she could breathe again.

She wasn't fond of being fed water and diluted food through a syringe, but she accepted it, and we were grateful for that.

Every morning, after giving them breakfast, we let the cats out to play in the garden, so they can get a couple of hours to exercise or nap in the sun and fresh air. Both Rex and Guinness have continued to go outdoors with the rest of the cats. They don't romp like the younger ones do, but they enjoy watching them or just dozing in the sun.

Usually when it rains, they all choose to stay in where it's warm and dry.

It rained just half an hour after they went out this morning. Both Guinness and Rex came in from the wet like the others. Yet Guinness asked to go out again when the rain stopped. Perhaps she knew that it would be her last time.

I let her out again and she was content to sit just outside the house. So I left her there and went to shower and get ready for work. When I was dressed, we went out to bring her in again, and we found her struggling for breath near the poolside.

We brought her home and gave her a pill. Even as she heaved, she looked at me and purred. When the pill began to work and her breathing steadied, I stroked her and told her we loved her. I explained that Brian would be home early this afternoon, and that I'd see her when I got home from work tonight. She just looked at me and purred.

She passed away at 3.02 this afternoon, after waiting patiently for Brian to come home. He said she was fine when he checked on her when he got in. But just a few minutes later, she made a sound and when he checked again, she was breathing very heavily.

She went quickly and peacefully, he said. Her heaving eased and she was gone within minutes, with Brian by her side, stroking her and telling her he loved her.

We are grateful for that. And we give special thanks to her guardian angel as well as to archangels Raphael and Michael.

Her guardian angel, for the constant love, care and protection unconditionally given.

Raphael, for being with her 24/7 since I asked him for help. He healed Guinness by removing much of her pain and discomfort so that she could continue to lead as normal and mobile a life as possible right to the end. He also granted my request to ensure that, when it was time for her to go home, she would go easily and painlessly, without suffering and fear.

Michael, for keeping his promise to come for her when it was time, and for taking her into his loving arms and carrying her into the light with him, so that she wouldn't be afraid, but would go in love and light and joy.

I may not have been with Guinness when she went, but I know it happened just the way I described. Because the angels have never let me down.

Tonight, and for as long as it takes, I will continue to sleep on the floor with Rex. For he too, is getting weaker by the day.

I have asked for the miracle of a turnaround for him, yet I have also asked for the same miraculous privileges for him -- as I had for Guinness -- if a turnaround isn't meant to be, and it is his time to go home.

For me, it is miracle enough to know that God's love is so great that the angels and archangels will love and come to the aid of our beloved pets when we ask. And to know that when it is time for Brian, Jordan or me to go, we will be going home to a house in heaven that will be filled with all our beloved pets who have gone before.

Oh, what a homecoming that will be.

change is in the air

Never have I seen so many Singaporeans so passionate about an election.

For a nation that rarely loses its cool during its own government elections, the recent American polls had so many Singaporeans avidly following its electoral campaign that I'm sure they would have voted too, if they had been able to.

And for someone who is usually pretty neutral about the American government, I found myself, for the first time, actually hoping that one particular person would win.

Like millions of others, I cast my lot, metaphorically speaking, with Barack Obama. And when he won, I too -- like so many Singaporeans and others around the world -- celebrated along with the American people who had voted him into power.

I have utmost respect for Hillary Clinton, and I know she would have done a lot of good as President of the United States. But she is of the Old Guard of politics and government.

Some political experts have sniffed at Mr Obama's lack of experience, but the world is ready for change. What Mr Obama lacks in experience, he makes up for in integrity, vision and a willingness to work towards peace.

I like the fact that he sees things differently. I love that he is no warmonger.

Those proud proclamations of not being afraid to "make history", and the refusal to back down from "wars almost won" no longer strike a chord with most people.

Mr Obama has changed the history of the world by being the first African-American president. He has brought pride and hope to the African-American community.

But more importantly, he represents hope for the rest of the world.

For the vibration of the world as a whole is being raised, and we are already moving up to a higher level of consciousness.

Our spirits yearn for peace, love and unity in the world. For we are all one. We share the same planet. It is our home. And who wants fighting at home?

There is also no such thing as a war "almost won". There are no winners in war.

So on Mr Obama's shoulders is the weight of the world's dreams and hope for change, for peace. That is a heavy load for one man to carry. More so when the economic situation that he has inherited ensures that the going will be uphill.

We can help by not being quick to judge or criticise, by sending him love and light, and trusting that God and the angels will help do the rest.

our very own magical island

Like most Singaporeans, I've been to Sentosa island many, many times over the years.

Besides the usual outings and weekend chalet stays with friends and family, Brian and I used to take our son there quite often when he was little.

As a boy, Jordan used to love walking down the Dragon Trail together with his Daddy, because that particular walk sparked his imagination with its giant skulls, fossils and even a water-spouting dragon made of stone.


As Jordan grew older, he lost his fascination for the Dragon Trail and we haven't been to the island on a family outing for quite a while.

But last month, I went there together with five others who were on a "spiritual mission" to help Sentosa "breathe".

Elisabeth, a very powerful clairvoyant and healer whom I consider to be my spiritual mentor, had received a message that said that the current construction of the upcoming casino on Sentosa had buried the powerful, ancient crystal that is on the island.

Very few people are aware of this crystal. I only learnt about it a few years ago myself when Elisabeth was first told of its existence and guided to reactivate it through prayer and meditation.

I never joined them, but for the last few years, Elisabeth and a group of like-minded people have regularly gone to Sentosa once or twice a year to pray and meditate at the site of this crystal. It can't be seen because it is buried far beneath the island, but it is there -- those who are sensitive have experienced its energy.

I was amazed when I first learnt of its existence. I'd heard of "high energy" places that are all over the world -- Sedona in Arizona; Uluru in Australia; Stonehenge and Glastonbury in England; and the pyramids in Egypt -- but Sentosa, Singapore?

I decided to go along when Elisabeth said she needed to get to the island to find a way to create some outlet for the crystal's energy to come through, and to allow its healing energy to flow under and around the island and the region again.

I wasn't sure what to expect. But we found ourselves at the Dragon Trail, where the heart of the forest was. We stopped there to pray and meditate, and I instinctively took off my sandals so that I could connect more firmly with the ground as I closed my eyes.

Immediately, without any warning, I felt such sorrow that my tears flowed.

I couldn't explain it. All I knew was that I was somehow sharing the island's emotions, and it was grieving. Very, very deeply.

"The island is choking and the angels weep" was the message that Elisabeth had received regarding the crystal's "burial".

For the first time, my belief that the planet we live in is a living, breathing entity to be respected and loved became real to me.

This spot turned out to be one of the vortices where the crystal's energy could be released. Immediately after we did that, there was a sudden increase in the number of visitors to that particular part of the Dragon Trail, and I realised that people were unconsciously drawn to the healing energy (or dragon energy, as Elisabeth called it) that had begun to circulate again.

From there, we were guided to another vortex which I believe is meant to be kept secret, and a third spot where we were asked to pray and help fix an energy unbalance.

At the last stop, I kept seeing movement in the trees out of the corner of my eye, and I had a strong sense that we were being watched by the fairy folk. When we were done, I felt a strong rush of gratitude coming my way, and I knew it was them saying thanks for helping to fix the unbalance.

I know there'll be a lot of hooting out there when word of this spreads.

But it doesn't matter. What matters is that we managed to do what we set out to do that day, despite not having any idea where to go and how to do it when we started out.

And again, it taught me that when you open your heart and mind to miracles, they do happen... all the time.

And that's magic.

the beast in you

Today is World Animal Day.

Unfortunately, it doesn't mean a thing to lot of people. Only animal lovers will understand the need for a day to acknowledge and remember the animals who share this planet with us.

Of course it's great to honour our pets for the joy and unconditional love that they bring into our lives. And it's wonderful to remember the plight of abandoned pets and strays who deserve better.

But today is also about honouring all the creatures of Earth, for they have just as much right as humans do to living lives of love, dignity, joy and good health.

A couple of days ago, I was working on the weekend listings for the newspaper. I put a small picture of a young husky next to an item describing what the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals was doing this weekend in honour of World Animal Day. The picture was taken from the SPCA's calendar for next year, which would be sold at the event to help raise funds for the non-government-supported shelter.

And the editor wanted the picture of the dog taken out.

"There are so many things happening this week -- why can't we use a picture of people instead?"

But it's World Animal Day this weekend, and there are a couple of events that are being held in its honour, some of my animal-loving colleagues and I said in defence. Anyway, there are already several pictures of people in the listings pages.

"No, no no. I want a picture of a person. This dog isn't even a famous dog. Animals are nobodies!"

Of course the dog had to be taken out in the end. And a picture of some visiting French singer with a niche following was used instead.

I was so hurt and angry, I cried.

Looking back, I'm not sure whom I hurt for most. The animals, of course, because they so often have to live with such disdain and disrespect.

But I think I also cried for the editor. Because to me, that remark spoke volumes about the spirit of someone with so little regard for another life that just happens to be non-human.