JUNE 10th - JULY 10th
Where do I begin ? I think it's right to start at the Bandra, Mumbai home of Sub Inspector Chandu Desai. I was born to Lakshmi who littered 7, all true bred Doberman pups. Thanks to Chandu's police contacts, he was well known for certified pedigreed dogs.
A father and son came, not very sure of themselves, "maybe first time adopters," I told my siblings. We were suckling from mama who wanted to feed us all fairly despite the fatigue after giving birth. The visitors were becoming more decisive as Chandu dispelled their doubts. They asked him who among us was not vicious, male, a good dog for a home. Chandu replied that girls made very good pet dogs, but all had been picked up and that among the ones left, all males, I fitted the bill.
For the first time I learnt that unlike us canines, humans use a medium of exchange, money, which has worth because it mostly represents value. Some lucre did change hands, a list of dos and dont's on my feeding and upbringing (as though it's that easy !) was given to my owners who hailed a taxi and so started my journey to my home in Colaba, South Mumbai.
I did not expect a party on reaching home, but the taciturn lady of the house was cold as cold can be. She told Pop and the boy who was their elder son rather regretfully, "A dog in a Brahmin house, what will the relations say !" Her holier-than-thou tone warned me of ostracism and things puritanical. I realised it would be wise that I drank the milk offered by Pop and went to sleep uncomplainingly.
The boy and his little brother gently played with me the next few days while Pop went off on some daily business. The lady of the house, how could I affectionately call her Mom ?, prayed and cooked and moped in her dominion, the kitchen, which was out of bounds for me, my status or lack of it in her home clearly defined so derogatorily. I can't complain that I was not fed at intervals, but I longed to be back at Chandu's house with my mother and siblings.
But after a month of these depressing days, a wonder came to light. Pop was home from work one evening and found me in the kitchen with yes Mom, now I feel the description fits her, stroking me as I ate some sweet she offered me. A good diplomat, Pop said nothing about her change of heart, but was indeed happy that I too was permitted my priestly place, like the rest of the upper caste householders, in her sanctum sanctorum. Accepted at last by the most critical member of the house, I was naturally in seventh heaven.
Pop and older son would take me for long, refreshing walks. Mom looked after all our needs at home, the younger sibling either couldn't handle a dog of my size or muscle on the roads or he was just plain lazy. To be fair to him, I think it was the former reason.
One day I got lost. The leash gave way, the older son was not aware, I found myself separated from him ... no road sense ... fast cars and buses ... strangers everywhere ... When a child is lost, say in an exhibition, wise parents may have told her not to panic, but to go to the "Lost and Found" booth or, if she's not that old or mature enough, a friendly cop will rescue and reunite her hearing her weep, in a few trained steps. But what about a critter like me, in a state of blue funk, with no one to turn to ... gosh it's doomsday !
A labourer's family had come to the exhibition. Though poor and uneducated, they empathised with me. After making sure I was not going to bite if they held what was left of my leash, they took me to their home. Home for them was an hour's walk away, a hut in fact. I was tied outside as there was honestly no space within for a dog, fed some of the rice and daal. Due to heavy rains and the puddle I found myself in, I unconsciously ingested drain water. But full marks to them, they did their best. I must thank whoever invented the TV and the cellphone. My family had to file a First Information Report (FIR) with the local Police without which the Cable TV channel would not run paid-for "Lost" strips as banners at regular intervals with a helpline number and my picture, in happier times. The FIR was to prevent any foul play, but foul play there was because both the custodians of law and entertainment demanded filthy lucre to carry out their legitimate duties, the latter in addition to their ad rate.
Many crank calls and some genuine ones were received by my family, as the younger sibling who loved me in his own special way told me later, his lack of success in walking me notwithstanding. Finally and thankfully, they found me because my rescuers called the helpline number displayed on the huge TV screen in my house, using another of man's inventions, the ubiquitous cellphone, both of which Pop said were the greatest disruptors of domestic peace. But here I don't subscribe to his view because were it not for these gadgets where would I be!
As per Chandu's commandments, I received a whack on my rump from Pop, which was meant to make a frightening noise, but cause no pain. However, the delay between being "Lost" and being "Found" broke the cause-effect chain. Also, as I was fed my choice treat after a vet gently flushed out the ditch water from my stomach before it could harm me, I wondered if they were happy or sad at the return of the prodigal son.
Like all dog stories mine could go on about the truly great times we had together, how I poked my wet nose out of our car window as we cruised along on great highway drives, my aging process, remember one year of a dog's life is equal to 7 human life years or so ...
We dogs love our near and dear humans unconditionally. And if they reciprocate so much the better. Hence I would like to end this story happily by sharing Mom's favourite quote which she would read out to me on some warm and cozy nights. Esconsed under her blanket (to hell with the wisdom of those who say don't let your dog sleep on your bed, the kennel or the rug is his place) she would often read these lines from Anthony Douglas Williams ...
"If they breathe they live,
If they live they feel,
If they feel they love,
If they love they are aware,
If they are aware they have a soul"
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srini.ragtennis
Great write up to appreciate one’s love for pets!
teestarajan
Love the vivid visualisation by the storyteller. I felt like I was transported to the world that he was describing.
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