Having a dog as the master

When I got married, my wife brought no dowry, but she did bring a dog with her called Ginger. She told me - or rather warned me - in no pulverised words that I was to love and respect that feline.

She made it clear that if I did anything that displeased it, then I should be ready with my divorce papers. I knew how a dog was to be loved but had no idea how it was to be respected.

Despite all my hatred towards this class, I had no option but to compromise with the beast. It would keep howling the whole night keeping, both the thieves and my sleep at bay.

When breakfast or lunch or for that matter supper was cooked, the first to be served was Ginger.

One day her sweet Ginger fell ill. I thought that it was the beginning of the end of that insufferable creation in my house.

But no sooner did I return from office in the evening, I heard my wife shout from the window, "hey! don't park the car in the garage, we have to take Ginger to the vet."

Now, that day I was also not feeling well, so I said, "no I cannot, because I have fever. I want a cup of coffee."

"Not well?" she remarked with a bit of scowl, which I am sure she must have learnt from her beloved Ginger.

"Take a disprin and you will be fine as a fiddle. But I can't give it any medicines without consulting the doctor." So the 'privileged' dog, despite being on the back seat of the car, was the one who became the driving force.

One day on my return from office, I found the entire drawing room changed. My favourite sofa on which I would lie down and read or make my friends comfortable, shifted to a corner. "Why this change?" I enquired. "The room looked good enough."

"Look darling," replied my wife, "Ginger is not used to sleeping on the floor. He needs a comfortable bed too, like you and me do and that sofa suits his needs." "What", I replied. "My sofa for Ginger? That is ridiculous."

"Well you can always buy a new one," she replied, adding "you are an earning member of the family, but Ginger has no income, therefore I thought it was my duty to provide him with the essentials. And stop being so insensitive, you must learn to think about others too."

"Now this is becoming too much," I replied with a Ginger-like growl, "a dog getting more priority than a human being - and that too - over a person, who incidentally or accidentally happens to be your life partner?"

"Oh you soft-headed spouse," she replied, "Have you not read or heard what the wise have said? They say that the humble shall inherit the world."

"Well I don't know about that," I replied with a bit of malevolence, and continued in the same tone, "but this mute dog of yours has definitely inherited my house," I replied with quite an explicit annoyance.

So I was left with little option but to timidly yield to her demand. For I knew if I wanted my hunger to be taken care of I must 'respect' its whims. The four-legged creature looked immensely pleased at my laying down the arms, literally.

Its gleaming eyes seemed to reflect that it enjoys our verbal duel. It wagged its tail and put out the tongue, as if trying to convey that it indeed had 'inherited' the house and I was just a care taker from hence onwards.

The writer is a journalist based in India.