Exactly 11 years back, Bruno, our pet Dobermann aged 10 had passed into the mist of time snapping something deep within. It's a wound that's still not healed nor does it show any sign of healing. Bruno was our world and he lit up our lives with his delightful capers and quaint habits.
He was a frequent traveller on the New Delhi-Thiruvananthapuram Rajdhani Express train and would make his presence felt throughout the period of the journey. The caterers used to give him his extra bone as they curiously followed him, especially during his outings at the stations where the train stopped a wee bit longer. So Kotah, Panvel, Marmagao, Kankannadi and Ernakulam were the stations that saw him darting out for doing his job only to return in the nick of time as the train got ready to chug along onward. We used to take him along with us wherever we could and when we couldn't, we'd leave him invariably with our friends who were 'rabid dog lovers'(An expression appropriated from a very dear friend of mine) - a situation that he wasn't very fond of but had accepted in his stride as a necessity. And invariably, on our return, he used to display his displeasure in his own cute manner!
I still remember his last week with us when he used to be taken to the vet at the Presidential estate. During those days I used to own a Maruti Omni and he used to rest in the rear seat with his eyes focused on me as I watched him through the rear-view mirror. And whenever our eyes met, he used to look away embarrassed at having betrayed his emotions.
Did he know that his end was coming? I can never forget two things that happened the night before which, in hindsight, makes me feel that he did:-
(a) he'd urinated on the carpet and he looked really sorry at having soiled the place. Our assurances
that we didn't mind it didn't seem to console him.
(b) and sometime during the wee hours of the morning, when I'd suddenly woken up from an uneasy
sleep, I saw him facing away from us staring on at the wall breathing heavily in quick, short gasps.
He died in my arms, the next morning and everyone said that it was what he'd have loved most. But that's one happiness that I'd continue to grudge him till my very end!
Tailpiece.
1. Bunty and Babli, who were our helps during our stay at Delhi, had called up this morning to say that they'd placed a glass of milk and a piece of cake at Bruno's grave site - a thing that Lekha used to do every year on this day! Damn sweet of them and we feel thankful to them for their kindness!!
2. RIP, little one! We miss you every waking hour!!
He was a frequent traveller on the New Delhi-Thiruvananthapuram Rajdhani Express train and would make his presence felt throughout the period of the journey. The caterers used to give him his extra bone as they curiously followed him, especially during his outings at the stations where the train stopped a wee bit longer. So Kotah, Panvel, Marmagao, Kankannadi and Ernakulam were the stations that saw him darting out for doing his job only to return in the nick of time as the train got ready to chug along onward. We used to take him along with us wherever we could and when we couldn't, we'd leave him invariably with our friends who were 'rabid dog lovers'(An expression appropriated from a very dear friend of mine) - a situation that he wasn't very fond of but had accepted in his stride as a necessity. And invariably, on our return, he used to display his displeasure in his own cute manner!
I still remember his last week with us when he used to be taken to the vet at the Presidential estate. During those days I used to own a Maruti Omni and he used to rest in the rear seat with his eyes focused on me as I watched him through the rear-view mirror. And whenever our eyes met, he used to look away embarrassed at having betrayed his emotions.
Did he know that his end was coming? I can never forget two things that happened the night before which, in hindsight, makes me feel that he did:-
(a) he'd urinated on the carpet and he looked really sorry at having soiled the place. Our assurances
that we didn't mind it didn't seem to console him.
(b) and sometime during the wee hours of the morning, when I'd suddenly woken up from an uneasy
sleep, I saw him facing away from us staring on at the wall breathing heavily in quick, short gasps.
He died in my arms, the next morning and everyone said that it was what he'd have loved most. But that's one happiness that I'd continue to grudge him till my very end!
Tailpiece.
1. Bunty and Babli, who were our helps during our stay at Delhi, had called up this morning to say that they'd placed a glass of milk and a piece of cake at Bruno's grave site - a thing that Lekha used to do every year on this day! Damn sweet of them and we feel thankful to them for their kindness!!
2. RIP, little one! We miss you every waking hour!!
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