Walking Gas
My children aged three and
five (at that time) wanted a dog, I couldn’t have agreed more, but my husband
was adamant. “I don’t want a dog” he said and refused to discuss the matter
further. It was a question of upbringing, I came from a small family (two of
us) and we always had dogs. He, on the other hand came from a family of six,
each born a year apart. His mother thought it was more practical and economical
to keep a milk cow.
One day, one of my husband’s
patients came to the house to see him. “I want to thank you for the excellent
care you took of my wife” so on and so forth.” I felt sorry for him. He was a
senior citizen , a retired principal of
a government school. He had come all the
way searching for our house. I offered him breakfast. He left after that. He
returned a few minutes later. “My dog is missing,” he announced.
“What dog?” I asked.
“I had a puppy in the bag I
left outside the door. I also had a bag of grapes. Both are missing.”
I was puzzled. Our house was isolated. There were no way grapes and a puppy
were missing. My domestic help was equally nonplussed. Then we heard a whimper.
Tracking the source of the noise, we reached my daughter’s clothes cupboard.
The puppy and the grapes were inside.
“What is this!” I asked,
totally embarrassed.
“We wanted a dog,” my son
announced, “I thought he brought it for us.”
“And the grapes?”
“We thought it was for the
puppy to eat.
It was a white miniature
Pomeranian the size of a chick. The breed was rare and the puppy was beautiful.
I finally caved in and paid the market price for the puppy. The old man left
and we named the dog “Penny.”
My children really enjoyed
her. I did too. The upside was that I was finally able to shift the children out of my room into their own. They were
willing to sleep in their own room if
the dog was there too. She in turn looked after them well. She alerted me every
time my son developed wheezing, almost before the first explosive cough
emerged.
She looked like an angel, but
looks are very deceptive!
She bit all our relatives,
friends and acquaintances. She disliked being touched, but looked so cute that
people (even when warned not to) petted her. The minute they touched her she
attacked. She had tiny sharp teeth with which she always managed to bite a
“nerve. ”The pain was unbearable. She also hid in a small gap between the
fridge and wall and sprang out at unsuspecting guests. When I yelled at the
children, she barked loudly and angrily at them. They were more scared of her
than of me! She was scared of heights,
so if we put her up on a book shelf she sat there quietly till the guest left
and we were ready to place her down again. She disliked being bathed, and
shampooing her was a nightmare.
She finally died at the age
of 15 years. Then, most of my friends and relatives related horror stories
about how they had been bitten. ( I did not know many of these episodes). She
used to be left with my parents when we travelled. There too she hid under the
sofa and attacked unsuspecting visitors.
My son was devastated when
Penny died ( my daughter had left for
college), so I decided to move quickly and get another dog. This time I got a
black and white cutie, a cross between a Tibetan terrier and a Llasa Apso. We
first named him “Xerox,” but soon changed the name to “Axl.”
He was an excellent watch dog
and warned us when anyone came near the house. Penny’s spirit seemed to have entered
Axl though. Within a short space of time, he bit everyone including us. The
only person he never dared to bite was my son. He hid in my husbands shoe once.
When he tried to put on the shoe, he bit him once and then again for good
measure. “This why I told you we don’t need a dog,” he yelled clutching his
bleeding foot “they will probably amputate my foot”.
My daughter’s friend came
over one day and sat on the sofa. Axl came and sat next to him. “Don’t move”,
said my daughter. He did not heed the warning and tried to pet Axl. He was
bitten so badly that Axl’s teeth pierced through his watch.
I tried to discipline him
with a rolled up newspaper. He wound up tearing the newspaper to shreds and
chasing me into the next room.
After Axl passed on, much to
the relief of friends and relatives, I started looking around for another dog.
I had started running in the mornings, and as I needed to get to work, this
meant I left the house at 5 am. It was either pitch dark or a creepy with a full
moon. I decided to get a “BIG” dog, and that was how Jaz came into our lives.
He grew to be a 45 kilo jet black Labrador with a red tongue hanging out of his
mouth. He looked ferocious. He had a deep loud scary bark with which he warned us about approaching
humans. He also loved to jump on people. Since he came upto their shoulders and
then tried to lick their faces, he was viewed with fear and trepidation.
I encouraged this view.
“Yes he bites” I loudly
announced to strangers who asked. “No I cannot completely restrain him, he is
very strong. Please don’t come near us.”
We had shifted to a village
as my husband had retired. Needless to say all the villagers gave us a wide berth
when I set out in the early morning darkness with Jaz in tow.
I went away for a month, and
my gardener had to take Jaz walking in the morning. Jaz not obey him at all. He
was unable to physically restrain him, so they walked wherever Jaz wanted to
go, a meandering outing all over the village.
A month later I returned and
started running early in the morning with Jaz. The villagers greeted us with
enthusiasm. “Hello Gas!” they said “when did you return Madam?’ Jaz responded
to them with equal enthusiasm. He bounced around and did not bark at all.
“Gas is a good dog,” one
gentleman announced, “he doesn’t bark or bite.” He then proceeded to scratch
Jaz under the chin.
I have taken to carrying
a stout bamboo cane while walking.
“Gas” is no longer much
protection!
Dr. Gita Mathai
The
writer is a paediatrician with a family practice at Vellore.
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