Darling pet of yesterday

Being an ardent animal lover, my grandmother would not stand any act of cruelty or violence against them. There was no sustained pro-animal campaign — official or otherwise — those days. So, if she had so much love for them, it was because she had inherited it from her parents and the society at large.

The good old lady, Mrs BD, would begin her day with feeding birds, setting apart a chapati (flat bread) or two for street cows and dogs. Even when a dog was brought to the house as a pet, other animals continued to be fed without fail.

Our pet dog Tony was the darling of all but loved Mrs BD the most because of the extra care and love she showered on it. Tony would invariably sit at her feet, follow her everywhere and sneak into her bed. To her, it was like her grandchild which had developed strong bonds during the years it grew up to adulthood.

At one point of time, Mrs BD discovered that she was heading for a test of her love for animals when Tony contracted a skin infection. Large chunks of its white and brown coat fell off, exposing the pink skin underneath and emanated stench. Small tufts of hair were found strewn all over the house. That scared us.

Well wishers advised us to get rid of our pet but we preferred to only distance ourselves from it. Initially, the poor creature did not react to our changed behaviour. So, it would still try to rub its diseased body against our limbs or squat on the carpets often causing embarrassment before guests.

As a result, Tony had to be admonished and which hurt it. But soon we found that our grandmother was hurt more. Scolding all of us, she declared she would not allow any atrocity on Tony and took charge of the sick mongrel. She would give it a regular wash with disinfectants and did the required dressing on the balding skin religiously.

However, despite all the care, the foul odour was becoming unbearable. All, except grandmother, decided enough was enough. The dog which had entered our house as a little lovely pup must now go. But, our grandmother wouldn't let it happen. So, one day my younger brother quietly sent the sick doggie to a research institute to be used as a guinea pig.

Breaking her fast

That shocked her. She was so incensed that in protest she gave up food and water and stopped talking. The whole family was in a fix. Repeated imploring failed to mollify her. So, how could any of us take food?

Hunger added to our agony. Just then a miracle happened. Tony had returned, though bruised and more injured, apparently during fights with street mongrels. Evidently, it had managed to escape and headed straight to our place.

We thanked God and quickly finished our meals. Grandma also broke her fast. Yet, there was an air of uneasiness. Tony had divided our family into two camps, with only grandma on its side. All others who had so fondly loved Tony had today become its ‘foes'. It was a difficult coexistence but it did not last long. Tony's condition aggravated and a few days later it passed away. The darling of yesterday was given a decent burial.

A few days later, when peace returned, my brother asked grandmother why had the highly-infected mongrel weigh down so heavily on her mind? In a low voice she asked, "If I contract an infectious disease, will you throw me out of the house, too?"

We looked at each other for an answer. But had none.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.