You were the sweetest cat.

Alex wasn’t just another community cat in E-Block. He was the presence at night to look out for. If any resident ever walked by the back side of the block, they probably saw him on top of a red Maruti Swift, which was the “spot”. Always. Typical cat fashion, overlooking his kingdom from the top. Unlike Chess, who always kept a little distance, Alex wanted you to know he was there. He wasn’t shy, he’d look right at you, purr, and make sure you noticed him. But only if you locked eyes.

For me, one of the fondest parts of my day for the past couple of years was heading down at 11pm to feed Alex and Chess. Chess would hang back, cautious, hiding somewhere nearby. Alex, though, was never like that. He’d sit up on the car, waiting, calm but alert. As soon as I showed up, he’d acknowledge me in his own way — a sound, a purr, that little body language that said, “I know you’re here.” Those nights became a routine I really looked forward to. Unfortunately, that has come to an end now.

A lot of residents cared for him, and he gave back by being a great companion.

That’s why it hurts so much to write this. A few days ago, Alex was in a car accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes these things happen with animals. But even knowing that doesn’t make it easier.

Now when I walk past that red Swift, it feels wrong not to see him there. I still expect him to be stretched out, watching everything like he always did. I’ve got so many photos and videos of him, and while I’m grateful for them, looking at them right now just brings back the ache of losing him. Taken away from us, far too soon.

Alex was more than a cat in the block. He was part of my life over the last few years. He mattered. And he’s going to be missed more than words can really say.

Rest in peace, Alex.

Alex and Chess having dinner

Alex, Chess and Lily having dinner together, featuring the swift

rest well buddy, you will be missed.