jabberwocky

Vicky and I
After a never ending childhood of wanting pets and not getting them(thanks to working parents)
vinod and I had steered ourselves to not being overtly demonstrative towards dogs and cats..
the first dog that we got somewhat close to... was vicky.
sarita and sharat's dog; we first made his acquaintance in 1991-that was a long time ago.
vicky was young and robust and used to run like the wind(or so we said)
a nice strange mix of ash and brown.. vicky had the look of a good pedigree gone wonky
I remember the day vicky barked at carlton saldanah(the neighbourhood sporststar), and i told him
"it won't bite," and he almost bit my head off with..."that's what they ALL say till the bugger bites your hand off."
I disowned vicky then by... "well he's not my dog. i was only trying to help." Emply words.. for vicky followed me, wagging his tale..
while i busy trying to look like we had never met, because carlton was glaring at me!!

Vicky was different from other dogs.. he never begged for food at the bakery. which was a constant with every other dog
no matter what breed or royal lineage they claimed
anyway the gist of the matter is that sharath, sarita, vinod and I spent some time together last sunday morning
after a long , long time.. we really don't have that kind of time anymore.. we have time for everything else.. except for
spending time together... all of us.
anyway coming back to the gist that was... it was again an event of sorts.. Vicky died last sunday.
We knew we had it coming for a while now.. he's been ill on and off..had a couple of operations..
but was okay. He was bloody old by dog standards.. 16. When people asked us how old he was and when we told them
they had that special look in their eyes.. which meant... "time up" some even told us.."dogs live only till 12 so he will die soon!"
this is when indian society doesn't seem quaint and sweet and culturaly sound. Sound is a complete misnomer.. even my mom had asked me countless times how old he was.. and told me in great detail that dogs lived only upto the age of 12..
she would never say that about an aunt or an uncle who was 60 or 70..
well is this not a crib about mi, there are too many of those.
So... we got this call and vinod and i ran out, came back took bike out..
it was bloody hot.. so we ran back in took glasses and cell phones.. some glamour for vicky
and went over..
the usual.. aunty was crying , sharath was organising something, preeti was around, sarita red rimmed eyes.
vinod, sharath, sarita and preeti went to a pet cemetry and buried him.
there are countless pictures of the ash coloured, hairy vicky in our house
he was the closest we came to having our own.
we fed him when sarita's folks were out of town and those two disappeared and didn't come back on time
we gave him milk and break and wondered if he liked it.
we sat with him on the stone outside our house.. all four of eyes..... he heard our stories, we tolerated his bark..
he was territorial(in his youth), we were happy to have him walk with us
he would growl at all the unpleasant specimens who walked past us.
he was good fun.
do dogs become angles? do they have a heaven and hell?
its difficult to imagine vicky with white wings and halo
and he's no angel. really.
he didn't even like to be kissed and hugged and petted..
he a mind of his own,
so vicky.. stay away from those holy joe types and find your own haraami friends
bite madhu rao's irritating pomeranian if you find it
and as for that pesky caeser... shred him to bits and use his fur to make a pillow...
have fun.... lots of bones and endless running space to you.
run fast... like the mini cheetah that we always thought you were
doggy peace.