Something weighs heavily on me, as I write this post. For writing this post means that I am finally acknowledging his death. The tragic end to my most lovable buddy, Teddy the cat.

For loyal readers and close friends, you may know about Teddy. Being the close companion he is, I have blogged about him more than a few times. His antics, his personality and eccentricity that made Teddy...well Teddy.

There is something about the death of a pet that is very different and yet similar to the death of a close human being. You feel the grief, you cry over them, and for that day, you feel nothing but the emptiness where he used to fill inside you.

But that grief quickly goes away to be filled with extreme guilt. You start wondering whether you could have done something different to avoid his death. You remember his hopeful looking eyes whenever he was simply looking for a scratch behind his ears or for a treat. A pet relies on you for every little thing....much like a baby does. Your responsibility ultimately is to protect and ensure that he is well taken care of.

Which is why when I woke up at 3.12 am to the sound of yelping and growling dogs on the 22nd of November, 2007, I should have gone out and checked whether he was ok. I should have shouted for him, and looked for him with a torch light, cuddled him, and bring him back into the safety of our home. I should have ignored the drowsiness of the medicine I took the night before, and forced myself out of my slumber and treaded through the garden to look for him.

I did none of that. I fell back into a deep sleep, and soon the room became darker than it was before. It should have been a sign, that something was not right.

I found him lying under the mango tree while I was looking for him to feed his breakfast. He could have been asleep. Except for the trickle of blood from his ears, there wasn't a mark on him. His collar laid a few feet away to the right, and the bell attached to his collar laid a few feet to the left.

After a couple of frantic phone calls, Kak G arrived, and with a Bismillah, we buried our lovable buddy, and marked his grave.

Everyone speculated on what happened that night. But it didn't bring him back.

I still hear his bell sometimes. I look around helplessly. The remnants of his fur are caught here and there where he used to jump and lick himself.

And for the first time after grumpily agreeing to having four cats for the last 20 years, mama finds herself saying, "I'm going to miss him."

And so he shall be missed...