My Unscripted Life

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…

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…

I tread on the potholed roads that lead to my place of learning.
It has worn out many pairs of shoes…
The strappy ones to go with my new baju kurung on my first day.
The cushiony ones that I have taken off while rain beat down on my back and hers.
The expensive sensible ones that made me feel out of place and un-belonged.
The cheap tacky ones which I got out from the discount bin, after I received my student loan.
The flat flip flops that I gotten used to wearing only after seeing others wearing them.
Shoes that have come and gone.
Yet still pile on top of one another,
near the front door,
which leads to the mornings that I can’t take back.

So…it has been some time since I last blogged. Missed me? Well…maybe Baby, who have had less reading material online since I have gone back to my kampung, and have basically been cut off from the outside world.

So…Deepavali have come and gone pretty quickly. I managed to make it just in time to Kasthuri’s. I actually rushed to her house on the same day I handed in my academic writing project. Phew…glad that’s over. The digital camera is having it’s problems, so I’ve had to rely on the camera on my handphone. And although it is a wonderful handphone for mp3 and other stuff, it doesn’t take the best photos. Especially not at night. But I made do.

Kas and me. I’m all round from the second helpings of mutton curry.

Weeee….my academic writing!

Teddy cozies up to mama’s brand new pillows.

Kak G has had the habit of bringing her pet tortoises to our home so that they can run around. So cute!

So…another post in pictures.

Try not to miss me too much. Tee hee hee.

I tread on the potholed roads that lead to my place of learning.
It has worn out many pairs of shoes…
The strappy ones to go with my new baju kurung on my first day.
The cushiony ones that I have taken off while rain beat down on my back and hers.
The expensive sensible ones that made me feel out of place and un-belonged.
The cheap tacky ones which I got out from the discount bin, after I received my student loan.
The flat flip flops that I gotten used to wearing only after seeing others wearing them.
Shoes that have come and gone.
Yet still pile on top of one another,
near the front door,
which leads to the mornings that I can’t take back.

I have a routine when I turn on the TV. Particularly when it comes to Astro. I have this strange addiction to the Crime and Investigation Channel and Discovery’s Home and Health Channel.

Today I when I tuned into the Discovery Home and Health channel, it was the Multiples marathon. Cool, I thought. Always wanted to watch lots and lots of babies coming out from those poor women. Something about the gift of birth, enthralls me. The last show in the marathon was about Jon and Kate and their EIGHT children. 6 year old twin girls, and six two-year olds (three girls, three boys)

Oh boy…

But it was amazing to see them getting through the day. Raising eight kids, even with two incomes must be really expensive. A simple outing needs to be planned waaayyy in advance. Phew…

But it makes good television I must say. And it helps that everyone is so good looking. Jon and Kate, plus 8. My new favourite television programme. I know…I need to get out more.

So…it has been some time since I last blogged. Missed me? Well…maybe Baby, who have had less reading material online since I have gone back to my kampung, and have basically been cut off from the outside world.

So…Deepavali have come and gone pretty quickly. I managed to make it just in time to Kasthuri’s. I actually rushed to her house on the same day I handed in my academic writing project. Phew…glad that’s over. The digital camera is having it’s problems, so I’ve had to rely on the camera on my handphone. And although it is a wonderful handphone for mp3 and other stuff, it doesn’t take the best photos. Especially not at night. But I made do.

Kas and me. I’m all round from the second helpings of mutton curry.

Weeee….my academic writing!

Teddy cozies up to mama’s brand new pillows.

Kak G has had the habit of bringing her pet tortoises to our home so that they can run around. So cute!

So…another post in pictures.

Try not to miss me too much. Tee hee hee.

I have a routine when I turn on the TV. Particularly when it comes to Astro. I have this strange addiction to the Crime and Investigation Channel and Discovery’s Home and Health Channel.

Today I when I tuned into the Discovery Home and Health channel, it was the Multiples marathon. Cool, I thought. Always wanted to watch lots and lots of babies coming out from those poor women. Something about the gift of birth, enthralls me. The last show in the marathon was about Jon and Kate and their EIGHT children. 6 year old twin girls, and six two-year olds (three girls, three boys)

Oh boy…

But it was amazing to see them getting through the day. Raising eight kids, even with two incomes must be really expensive. A simple outing needs to be planned waaayyy in advance. Phew…

But it makes good television I must say. And it helps that everyone is so good looking. Jon and Kate, plus 8. My new favourite television programme. I know…I need to get out more.

Exam notes are in the trash bin.

Text books packed away in boxes.

It can only mean one thing.

Yet again, it is the end of another semester. But this semester marks a different mood. A different tone. Pretty soon the 5th semester students of Mass Communications of UiTM will each embark on their own personal journey through the harsh working life that is their practical training. For most it will be an utter mystery. A blind plunge into the depths of the unknown. No more will we be comforted by familiar lecturers and groan over exams and mundane assignments.

I for one am excited! New beginnings, new adventures!

It’s like when I first embarked on my first day of pre-school and couldn’t stop thinking about how exciting it will all be. But I’ve had enough of studying. I’m ready to take this to the next level.

I shall regret this outlook one day. One day I shall get jaded and not want to work anymore.me Oh well…we shall see when that day comes huh?

Till then….happy holidays!

p/s – no phone line at home, so no internet Late posts are imminent.

Exam notes are in the trash bin.

Text books packed away in boxes.

It can only mean one thing.

Yet again, it is the end of another semester. But this semester marks a different mood. A different tone. Pretty soon the 5th semester students of Mass Communications of UiTM will each embark on their own personal journey through the harsh working life that is their practical training. For most it will be an utter mystery. A blind plunge into the depths of the unknown. No more will we be comforted by familiar lecturers and groan over exams and mundane assignments.

I for one am excited! New beginnings, new adventures!

It’s like when I first embarked on my first day of pre-school and couldn’t stop thinking about how exciting it will all be. But I’ve had enough of studying. I’m ready to take this to the next level.

I shall regret this outlook one day. One day I shall get jaded and not want to work anymore.me Oh well…we shall see when that day comes huh?

Till then….happy holidays!

p/s – no phone line at home, so no internet Late posts are imminent.