There was one night when the husband came and said, I know what we are going to do. We are going to get a dog. And we are going to manage it.
We had always been talking about how we will get a dog, or several, once we retire in an idyllic place . It was a major part of our dream of future. Every day, yes EVERY DAY I would watch those dog videos on YouTube and those ten mins or so were the purest pleasure in my corporate bullshittized life. Husband always wanted a dog but it was not the crazy, bone aching desire like mine. Like everything else with him, it was a calm and more mature wish.
But getting a dog to live in a tiny apartment in suburban Mumbai- we had always hesitated. It was not fair on him/ her. Who will look after the dog when we are in office with love and reliable care? Apartments are not the right environments for dogs. and even though there was plenty of space to walk and run in the gated community we stay in, we had our large childhood homes with plenty of open space to run around as the ideal for dogs.
But as we started talking, within half hour, we had figured out who will look after him during office hours, his daily requirements, how will the exercise work out. Yes, it is not ideal for him/her, husband said. But our love will make up for it. He/she will be world’s most loved dog. And since getting a dog was in top three of my big wish list for life, it is worth it, he said. NOW.
It made sense.
I dreamt of a small puppy snoring between us all that night.
We wrote emails to friends the next day when we woke up happier than we had been in ages. To see if they knew of any puppies that required homes. We had no requirements- gender or breed. As long as it was a puppy.
Within one week, a friend emailed me saying her bitch had had a litter and would we like to see them?
We went to see them when they were ten days old.
We found out they were born exactly on the day we decided to get the dog.
And I am not making this up, but when we set eyes on the litter, I knew the dog.
I panicked with thought that he might have been already taken. I trembled when she said he was not. She held out two puppies to us, including the dog, who were not taken. Any of these are fine, husband said, looking sentimental. The other puppy licked my fingers but.. but…. I kept on looking at the dog and said ,’ We will take him. Is that ok?’
Of course, she said. Husband smiled at ball of fur in his hands. The dog looked at him seriously with one eye open. His rather large head lolled a bit. My friend tied a green ribbon around his neck as id. Husband put him back gently with his sleeping brothers and sisters. The dog promptly went back to sleep.
I kept on looking at him all the time. I know he is our dog. I said as soon as we got back in the car. Yes, I could see you just locked your eyes with him. Husband said.
It would be exactly one month and twenty days before we got the dog home. We visited him twice interim, and my eyes always went to him whenever I entered the riotous courtyard. He looked more serious than others. He would often start playing on his own and randomly stop to look at the flying pigeons or something in the corner. His head was slightly larger than others. His colour was fuzzier. His eyes had that opaque puppy sheen that dominated my dreams. I had picked a Russian name- name of my all time favourite character. And he looked like a canine avatar of the character with his slightly spiritual face.
The day arrived. We had already puppy proofed the house thoroughly, bought dozens of books, had managed the holiday of our extremely lovely driver who would also be the puppy sitter and now only the arrival of the dog was remaining to complete our family.
We drove there. The dog had got his first bath and was sitting seriously on a table. I felt a bit of twang for the mother, but from experience of 4 litters in my childhood home, I knew she would be soon glad to be rid of the suck monsters. Husband picked the dog up in arms gingerly and we carried him out. Stick to drive dogs away in my hand, just in case. I sat with him in my lap. He would look up every time the car passed under the bridge with his eyes that are still capable of melting a murderer’s heart.
He came home and went to a carpet and hid his face under. We tiptoed around him. He didn’t look scared but we knew he would be nervous for a couple of days in new surroundings and people. We put some milk, some dog food, water next to him. He opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings. Then he sat up and looked at one corner with concentration. ( He still does that and it spooks me sometimes). We called him to come inside. He peered as much as he could from his position but seemed afraid to leave that spot. I picked him up and showed him the house. Then we sat him down again and showed him his toys.
It was maybe 20 mins since the dog entered the house. He saw the toys and all the serious Russianish look disappeared and was replaced with the silly joy only puppies are capable of. An hour later when my brother and my nephew arrived to visit him, he was flying in the air with his large ears and his springy legs. He ran everywhere, slipping now and then. Trying to jump on the couch. Trying and getting scared of jumping in the balcony. Scratching my legs with his razor-sharp nails. Trying to kill all his toys. Trying to outrun all of us. Peeing profusely all over to mark this as his home.
It took 20 minutes for him to know that this is his house. That this is his pack.
It has been 2 years and 3 months since that day.
And the dog has not only marked his territory but us, his pack for life.