Charlotte has written:- Aysha was the people’s tiger and she was, my little girl. Now a distant star she continues to shine in the hearts and minds of those whose lives she lit up with a chuff, a head rub, an acknowledgment of connection across species. I met her and her brother, Diamond, in 1998. They were 3 months old, I was 22. They had been born into an Irish zoo and (apparently) rejected by their mother. I’ll never forget seeing them trundling down the ramp of the horse box they arrived in. I knew they’d make and break my heart. But in between the make and the break we shared many moments of pure joy. We walked on the sandy shores of Sandown beach, played football and spent dozy days laying together lapping up the sun. Aysha was the spark, always ignited and desperate for chat or just company and a neck massage. She made everyone feel special bridging the gap between predator and prey. Impossibly ‘cute’ for a biologically evolved killing machine, with her signature smudged nose and small stature, Aysha was a gentle and giving being. But, like all tigers, she liked to dine alone and would fiercely defend dinner. She was a keen swimmer and loved her natural pool where she would ‘hunt’ unsuspecting Diamond, erupting as a striped blur onto his back from behind the reed beds. Aysha was always animated and never failed to trot over to greet her human friends of which there were many. She had a knack of shifting any down day into an up day, a frown into a smile. And, most importantly, she built bridges between the chasms of conceptual versus visceral concern for threatened wild tigers and her abused captive cousins. She showed people that tigers are not templates but complex, vulnerable, characterful beings. These feared and revered predators could be docile, soft and as in need of friendship and protection from suffering as our cherished animal companions. Sometimes I’d stay overnight with Aysha, sleeping on a camp bed with a flask of tea. In the mornings I’d waken to watch my girl stretching across her straw bed with a toothy yawn and a lot to say about the new day. We’d lock eyes, she’d chuff and whisper through a whisker. . .I love you and I’d whisper back. . .I love you too. She died aged 21 years. She never stopped serving her best side to all who came to be restored by her presence. She made everyone feel special. On her final Earth day many came to show their respects before she sipped her last mug of milk and slipped into a sleep crossing continents back to her homeland, to the forests of India that missed knowing her dainty paw prints and ever sweet spirit. There, I swear, she is still burning bright.