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Under
canine rule A Golden Retriever
represents half, while a crafty Daschund represents the rest. Dogs entered
my life when I was quite small. That was the time when having a
dog could make you the coolest kid on the block. So after much consideration
I forwarded the 'Let's get a dog' proposal at the dinner table a
good fifty times. It was approved. We would get a dog. A jet black
Alsatian was offered and we jumped at the chance. It was not
to be a breeze. We acquired the dog on Sunday and our shoes were
chewed to bits by Monday! Sibling proposed shoe racks - which we
bought by Tuesday. What we didn't bargain for was the fact that
dogs grow and grow fast. So the shoe rack also entered the list
of possessions chewed silly by Saturday. It was the
best of times; it was the worst of times. The dog was wonderful
for the simple reason that there was another brat to boss around.
Sibling was thrilled. He was now older than somebody. But that too
didn't last long. For a dog lover informed us that one human year
was actually equivalent to seven dog years! Go figure! Alsatians have
an incredible 'growing ability' as we found out. Soon the little
pillow that I donated to the dog could barely hold her head! A cage
was needed. As the dog was our responsibility Sibling and I built
one, rather ramshackle of course but it held - for a few days at
least. We also put up a board proudly proclaiming her name. And
then tried to entice her in. It didn't work. For the dog had already
decided that 'our' room was 'her' room and couldn't fathom how she
was expected to sleep outside. We lost and lost bad. The dog stayed
in our room and well, we were officially under canine rule. We should have
ideally understood our predicament at that time. But no, we went
ahead and got another dog. (The opposition grew by 100%, but we
were too ignorant to comprehend it!) The new 'dude',
who also took up residence in our room, was a ball of cotton wool.
It had to be the nicest dog we ever owned. He was just a tad possessive
of his belongings though, (namely my bed, Sibling's shoes and my
socks) and took pride in the fact that they were in such a bad state. At meal times
all the best dishes usually ended up under the table, accidentally
of course. Ice cream pronounced 'too creamy' flowed endlessly into
dog bowls that were strategically placed (by creatures more intelligent
than ourselves!) Be it waffles, rice or curry as long as they saw
us eating it, it was a treat. The dogs also
perfected the 'doggie notes', a mixture of 'woofs' and 'oooohs'
which they 'sang' to the tune of 'The Blue Danube'. It sounds rather
like a man crying out in pain after being stabbed a few times, but
I dare not voice that opinion in front of the dogs! The first item
on the grocery list slowly but surely shifted from rice to dog shampoo
quite magically. (Sibling still swears that he had nothing to do
with it so, I assume that it was actually the dog's idea, and that
through some sort of doggie communication it got done!) The nicest
part of owning a dog is its reaction when a member of the household
falls sick. They automatically become 'model nurses'. I still distinctly
remember how both doggies took turns keeping round the clock vigil
by my bedside. They'd look upon you so forlornly as you sipped ginger
tea, and almost willed you to sleep when they thought you needed
it! Unfortunately
though, the doggies didn't make it through their illnesses. We would
make little balls of rice to feed them and they would patiently
swallow them one by one. It was traumatic to lose them, especially
since when one died, the other went into depression. We survived
though and made the mistake of taking on more dogs. The Daschund
and the Retriever now take pride of place at home. Small dogs have
this inherent ability of making themselves look vulnerable. So as
you can well imagine the Daschund is spoilt silly. For the baby
of the house, one cry is all that's needed to make four fully-grown
adults pamper her. As a puppy she happily fit into someone's pocket.
Nowadays Sibling cannot complete any task without her input. There
are always two chairs next to the computer. One for the person who
is actually using it and the other (believe it or not) for the dog! The dogs utilise
every piece of furniture. They chew the table legs. Use the piano
pedals to gaze at themselves and have found the couch a wonderful
substitute bed! Stools in the kitchen are only there to help them
sniff at biscuits and the door wedge is an effective plaything! I have never
had the pleasure of waking up to the sounds of birds twittering
in the background since the dogs decided that the garden is not
the place for birds to hang out! The birdbath is therefore, unfortunately
never used but we cannot complain since they permit us to occupy
the house! A few days
ago, we worked up the courage to banish the dogs to the garden.
It worked for a few minutes. Then there was a gentle tapping on
the backdoor and lo and behold, in came the dog the minute we opened
it! Wonders will never cease! I have now officially accepted the fact that 'dogs' are a smarter species than humans. Don't believe me? Just think - who else can boast of a job where board and lodging is free, food is limitless and there's hours of sleep?! |
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
say and do. (It's next to impossible to leave the house without
wishing the doggies 'goodbye'.) The entire garden is under canine
rule. The swing is under canine rule. We humans are not permitted
entry unless invited - by a short wag of the tail, of course.
