Kalyani passed away on the 10th. She was almost 11.

She had stopped eating (and drinking) three days prior, even refusing treats that Achchan had to usually feed her first thing in the morning. (She would keep writing infinity-signs around and between his legs until.) We took her to Aruma twice to get her blood tested and insulin injected and saline IV-ed. Reshma found her passed out on 9th night and we got her admitted to the pet hospital. Her glucose levels had dropped dangerously.

Kalyani was magic and grace. She gently (and sometimes peppered with a stern, loving whack) nudged me to being a better person. She loved winters, looking at the rain, and rolling around in the grass. She judged mercilessly and loved unconditionally.

The gif is from my backyard in Gurgaon, 2012. She loved the place and was too small to jump the tall walls. That did not stop her from trying once in a while, though.

Caught Miss K sneaking in a sizeable nap as I was leaving for the studio.

Miss K was previously caught conversing with one of the seven sisters hanging on to a yellowed leaf on the areca palm by the window. (This was before the attempted assault on the squirrel-nest over the ventilation hole under the window in question. We think these incidents are connected, somewhat, definitely. Miss K pretends she can’t hear us speak of the event and switches to a pretend-race with some lizard off camera.) Miss K was trying to bump up the radius on a Gaussian Blur dialog box as I was distracted by a passing cyclist. Miss K was in the middle of trying to topple the small pile of books with Murakami on the bottom; Miss K hates non-Chip-Kidd covers of M’s work. The ‘South of the Border…’ cover now has added scratches next to where the spine meets the side of the bookshelf (it is laid sideways so as to not disturb the mass-market paperback covers in white). Miss K has a thing for blue Staedtlers; she leaves the yellow Kohinoors alone, even the ones right next to her lounging spot on the Wacom.