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His master's voice
We had a lovely dog of an Indian breed. It was only a couple of weeks old, part of a litter at a friend's house when all of us fell in love with it at first sight. Having a dark brown and white coat, it looked very cute.
- By Lalit Raizada, Special to Gulf News
- Published: 23:36 October 27, 2008
We had a lovely dog of an Indian breed. It was only a couple of weeks old, part of a litter at a friend's house when all of us fell in love with it at first sight.
Having a dark brown and white coat, it looked very cute. There was something special about the little creature that fixed our eyes on it. Our kids would not leave the house till my friend agreed to present the gorgeous looking pup to us.
He yielded to the kids' insistence. It was a great day for all of us, particularly the youngsters, when the little one entered our house. It was given a VIP treatment. The little pup was constantly changing hands. By consensus, we decided to call it Romi. My daughter was 'appointed' as its 'ayah'.
The excited youngsters brought all the required paraphernalia for the new 'member' - feeding bowls, cushion etc. Under my friend's advice, it was taken to a veterinary doctor for a routine checkup and instructions taken.
At home, little Romi was lodged at a place from where it could see the family members in 'action' and also keep a watch at the gate. However, Romi was too small to growl or bark at anybody.
Soon, it became a cynosure of all eyes and started attracting kids from the neighbourhood. The pup would not stay at the designated place. It would invariably lie at somebody's feet to feel the warmth it was getting from its mother.
We did not come to know when the little one grew up to climb up a bed and sneak into someone's blanket. We had a leash but never felt the need to chain it.
Time elapsed and Romi had now attained adulthood. It was frolicking, chasing some cat or barking ferociously at some street dog.
Romi was capable enough to take care of our house and its inmates. Of all the people in the family, our old mother felt secure and reassured.
Maybe, for this reason alone, special affinity and affection for it. Romi on its part fully returned the love she gave to it. It would often coil up at her feet and my mother would pet it. Romi preferred her to others to give it a bath. That cemented the bond between them.
Romi became such an integral part of the family that nobody could afford to miss it for even a short while. It would invariably accompany us during outings.
Life without it seemed incomplete. It had developed perfect rapport with all our neighbours. But would not spare any unknown face. This was why our neighbours also loved Romi.
Many a time, none of us took it out for a walk. It had been going out and coming back on its own without any problem. One morning, it rushed out as usual.
Minutes later, a neighbour's son rushed into our house gasping for breath. Shouting at the top of his voice, the excited boy said, "Uncle, Romi has been crushed by a truck."
Everybody present in the house heard the grim words and rushed to the accident spot. On reaching there, we found passers-by crowding the place. We were aghast and horrified at the gory sight.
Romi was lying in the middle of the road. The truck's wheels had flattened the lower half of its torso and scooped out the intestines. Romi's eyes were closed.
My wife and kids broke down. We leaned over it and cried out, "Romi, Romi!" There was no response. I too felt like crying. We looked at each other out of sheer helplessness. I mumbled, "Romi is no more." I consoled my kids but they would not stop crying.
By now, my old and ailing mother had managed to limp her way to the site with the support of her stick, with nobody escorting her as usual. We moved back to allow her to have the last glimpse of Romi who loved her so much.
Slowly, she leaned over and tearfully called out, "Romi.." and can you believe, Romi opened its eyes, cast a glance at her and then closed them - forever.
We gave Romi a befitting burial. Our daughter fished out a photo of Romi, got it framed and placed it at the place that was meant for Romi so that it continued to live with us for some more time.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
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