Furry heartbreaks

Tomorrow is kind of a big day for me. My new puppy arrives. For the first time in my life, I am feeling jittery because I am scared to meet him. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs so the nerves aren’t out of fear for the species but about life in general and how this little man is going to change it. Let me tell you honestly, that, I DID NOT WANT THIS. I had my life in control (to be fair, this was as good as it would get). There are very few times when I like to exercise my veto power in the relationship and I was ready with it, because this was definitely an emergency. I feared that my boyfriend wanted a dog only to distract himself and I (not so subtly) suggested he get a stuffed toy instead. Obviously, that didn’t work. Things escalated quickly, puppy was chosen, my boyfriend’s family had started rejoicing already, a shitty name was decided too! What could I do now? Either, act like a heartless bitch who could mercilessly kill all their joy with one, firm ‘NO’ but obviously that didn’t happen (and honestly, if I did manage to do that, there was a bigger worry- what monster had I begun to say no to a French Bulldog named ‘Happy’?) Don’t worry, that name isn’t staying. I may have become weak but my senses hadn’t completely deserted me.

For the first time, I have time to prepare for this new member which is an experience quite novel in itself. It’s bed has been bought, I have begun my reading but the fear refuses to go away. In the past, I have owned three dogs and all of them came into my life without any ultimatum, they hit me like meteorites and left life altering craters on my soul and I am afraid I am not ready to do that again to myself.

My first dog Oscar had flown to reach me and I was woken up and asked to go outside to receive my ‘friend’. Groggy and slightly angry for having been woken up, I had gone to the gate thinking that if this was a prank, I’d sever my friend’s head. There he was. A golden ball of fur. Tiny and sleepy. Oscar slept through the entire day, jetlag does that to you. However, the next day my brother (who had a tad bit more experience with dogs than myself) noticed that Oscar didn’t ‘pee like a man’! Nonsense, I said. Upon further investigation, it turned out that my brother was right, he didn’t. It turns out, he (it rather) was a she. With a heavy heart, I saw my dream to have a dog named Oscar Wilde vaporise. It had only been a day that I’d been with my puppy but I had promised Oscar that we would be buried together and have a book to our name so I wasn’t going to let a thing as trivial as its sex get in our way. A slight alteration was made to the name and Oscar became Oscii.

My second dog, Floyd had come to us in a rather bizarre manner. I’d been toying with the idea of getting two dogs but didn’t really have anything in mind. One day, in Ahmedabad, I happened to walk into a pet store and there I saw this little fellow.  He had such a heartwarming stare and he began tugging at my dress. I played with him for a while and then said then left the store. On my way back home, I kept getting reminded of his eyes. Them big, twinkly eyes and I felt I’d made a connection. I turned back and that’s how Floyd came home.

Look! I fooled the human, made her think we have a ‘connection’.

Remember, how I mentioned that I wanted two dogs, Pink and Floyd (yes, negative points for originality) because I felt that my pupper needed a friend, I mean I was there but for the times I didn’t catch his pupper tongue, I wanted him to have someone he could unburden himself too. I naturally assumed that when Floyd would get a little older I’d get him a brother.

Don’t look sad, you’re not a clearance puppy. You’re Zeppelin.

However, if plans worked, I’d have written a book by now and would be preparing for my Man Booker speech today.

 

One day when I had gone to pick Floyd from the spa, I saw this 3 month old Boxer. He was weak and sad, and had maggot wounds all over his neck. The guy who had rescued him told me that he was a clearance puppy and being the big sucker that I am (was), he joined Floyd as his elder brother but this guy didn’t give a Pink vibe to me. That’s how Zeppelin came into my life.

Sadly, except Floyd, none of these babies are with me today. Even Floyd now resides with my grandparents and I get to see him only once a year if I am lucky. My fear for the little guy who arrives tomorrow is not how he will take to me or how I will take care of him, it’s bigger. I’ve loved my dogs with all my heart and they have given me so much that when they left, I felt hollow for a bit. Bringing them up was a pain, they were unruly and monstrous but they were mine. When they were with me, a large part of my life went in apologising for their behaviour but after all those sorrys, I would just walk back with them, furious and the minute I’d look at their tilted heads I would just burst out laughing (perhaps that’s the reason I could never discipline them).

The last time I visited Floyd at my grandparent’s village.

The new puppy- Crime Master Gogo (for now that’s what we are calling him) will be here tomorrow and I hope and pray that this one never leaves me because I don’t think I can take another doggy heartbreak in this lifetime. I have suffered my fair share of human breakups but even after one horrible divorce, I don’t carry the burden with me. Not once, did I tell myself that I was scared to love and get hurt again. However, when it comes to doggy relationships, I am scared out of my wits. Frankly speaking, I am tired of writing about the puppies who have left me. I desperately need a win now and I am going to make sure this one is just that and more.

p.s. He is the tiniest I have got so far. God help me when this 1 month old arrives. No time to brood, mommy needs to get the crib ready.

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