India, July 25 -- "Swear on Simba," became a mantra for my two boys anytime they knew they were heading for trouble for unfinished chores. "Mama, promise I've done my homework, why are you giving me that look, swear on Simba it's done," the younger one would pipe up, while giving a sideways smile to the character under discussion, our golden Labrador, who would be wagging his tail and circling his little friend as if to protect him from being reprimanded. Simba came home as a pup when my younger son was two years old. The dog would follow the boys like a waddling shadow everywhere they went and had self-assigned himself a designated spot on the sofa in their room, much to the kids' delight. Living on a farm, a lot of our evenings would be spent playing ball in the lawn or a game of catch, and the young dog participated to the fullest by running away with the ball or frisbee, at every opportunity, with the whole lot of us chasing after him. Another favourite for this canine was chewing on bathroom slippers (and an odd shoe). He would remove them from the wearer's feet, even if he had to play a game of tug-of-war to do so, and then sit in a corner and gnaw through the footwear, till it was unwearable. None of us had a matching pair of slippers (much to the disdain of our more well-heeled friends, who would often comment on the condition of our footwear and the frugality with which I would buy new ones), all except my husband, the dog was a smart one, he had identified the 'Alfa' and chosen to stay on his good side. I even have a pair of knee length, leather boots, which carry tooth marks as a testament to his hobby and I wear them as an acceptance of the situation. Higher education for the boys required us to move to Chandigarh from the farm, which was emotionally challenging, considering we had to leave home and base. Simba moved to the big city with the kids and me. The change was a huge one for us, and there were days when I questioned the wisdom of our decision. Through all of this upheaval, my unexpected support was my champagne-coloured dog, who could sense when I was sad or upset because he'd come and sit next to me, looking at me with a gaze that said, "Don't worry, I got you." I think we both grew up, older, wiser and stronger in those years and came to value each other's existence. One morning, I was standing at the gate of our house and I saw a sight I'd never forget. The milk delivery guy had put Simba on his rickshaw cart and was pedalling him home. Apparently, Simba had gotten so tired on his morning walk that he just decided to sit in the middle of the road in our neighborhood and refused to budge. Seeing our domestic help's plight with the stubborn mutt, the kindhearted milkman emptied out his cart's contents in a neighbour's house, loaded our pet, and brought him back home. I could have sworn, the dog was smiling on the ride home. Old age took its toll for Simba began to slow down, but his love for good food had not diminished. The morning of his demise, he had a hearty breakfast and then peacefully slipped away in his slumber. Goodbye my constant, we will miss you, but the phrase, Swear on Simba, is now a part of our family forever, as is the love you shared with us....