On September 18th 2015, I was working at my office around 6 pm, overseeing a production release together with the software team. I received a call from my wife. She was crying inconsolably. “Cassy died”, she managed to get the words out in between tears. I knew that I had to drop everything and go home. From my reaction to the phone call, my colleagues knew that something was wrong. They assured me that they would take care of things at work and asked me to go home and be there for my wife. I did so, and she was crying non-stop. Anyone who knows my wife knows that she doesn’t shed tears so easily – the days that she sheds tears are few in number. This was one of them. 

While we were living in Chennai, Cassy had died in Pune, at my wife’s parents’ home. Cassy had been ailing for a while, and had seen the vet a few times, but she finally succumbed to her illnesses. Given that my wife was not in Pune, she couldn’t say goodbye to Cassy, which was a bummer. My wife’s parents buried Cassy in a dog shelter (which usually doesn’t offer burial services, but the owner of the shelter said he would take care of the arrangements, and buried Cassy inside the shelter).

In 2014, when my Mom, my wife and I were all working at the same office, my Mom called my wife and I to the desk of one of the staff. She was crying. “Her dog died”, my Mom explained, and called us. I offered words of consolation to my colleague, but my wife was surprisingly reticent, offering solidarity primarily with her presence. When I asked her about it, she told me something along the lines of words are inadequate, and how she cannot even begin to imagine how she’d be feeling if it was Cassy who died. This piece of information came in handy to give me an idea of the magnitude of my wife’s loss on the day Cassy died. Having seen a loved one lose a pet, I could also relate to Sadhvi Vrinda Om ji’s pain when she wrote about Benoo’s loss in A Prayer That Never Fails.

My wife has written a beautiful and heart-warming eulogy to Cassy here – do give it a read if you can. Cassy – you are fondly remembered by your best friend and partner-in-crime.