It has been 31 years since my Persian cat, Foxy, died. I have written about Foxy in several entries on this blog. Everytime I think of him, a sense of sadness would linger. Foxy was my best friend in many sense. He was my only friend when I was at home near the Lake Gardens.
Foxy was given to me as a kitten by my piano teacher who is also the daughter of friends of my parents, Kak Lily. For more than a year, Foxy was my only friend as my only other friend who lived nearby, was also, like me, living in a gilded cage next door being the son of a Prime Minister. Every morning Foxy would chase after my legs while I jog around the field and bite; and he would be by the door waiting for my return from school. Everytime I got a beating from my father, Foxy would come and rub himself against me as I lock myself inside my room; and Foxy would sleep on my pillow next to me, often pushing my face away if I had taken too much space.
Today, I read Aiz’s entry on the passing of her cat, Troy, and after 31 years, apparently the pain of losing Foxy is still there. She wrote this of her husband, Din:
The passing of Troy was very tragic that it made Din cry. I’ve never seen him cry like that before. He cried after he buried Troy and in the middle of the night he cried again..
Suddenly, the memory of losing one’s best friend gushed back into this frail heart. Suddenly the memory of those painful days and nights that followed after Foxy’s passing came back. Tears roll down my cheeks as I type my comment on her posting. I can feel Din’s pain. I can feel the anguish. I can feel the anger and frustration of not keeping Foxy inside the room that fateful night. I can still see the way Foxy, with a broken pelvis, tried his best to come to me as he usually did, to cheer me up every morning. I could almost see the pain he went through trying to get a pat on the head and a stroke beneath the chin.
I am sorry for your loss, Aiz and Din. I really do not know what to say….
…because after 31 years, I still cry for my Foxy.