It always takes loss to make me write.
Now, we've always lived in
houses where I could not have a pet. I love dogs and for as long as I have
remembered, wanted a dog of my own. Since it was near impossible for me to have
one, I settled for the next best thing - "adopting" my chiti-chitapa's
pet as my own.
Tessie - what a cute little
45-day-old furball she was when they brought her home 10 years ago. With her
long furry snout, intelligent brown eyes, perky ears and long pink tongue, she
stole my heart. Barely two days later, we were off as a family to Munnar; of
course we could not leave the puppy behind, so she joined us in the bus.
Over the years, every time I went to chiti’s house, Tessie had a
special affectionate bark for me. Everyone would know it was me who walked in
just from hearing the tone of her bark. It made me feel so special! We rolled
and wrestled, played fetch and run and I loved stalking with her. Seems silly
now, but it was fun, and I don’t regret a moment of it.
Tessie would get upset if I went to play with her after visiting
any of my friends who have dogs or cats at home. She would sniff around and
stalk off with her bushy tail shaking in a huff. I could almost see a
disapproving look on her face. She sure knew how to make me feel guilty.
As a teenager, all the “angst” one can feel can sound pretty
stupid (as it probably was) to the best of friends. I’d talk for hours on end
to Tessie. Patiently, she’d sit at my feet or lick my face as I poured out my
imaginary woes to her. If she could have spoken English, she might have said, “Shut
up and get a life.”
As it was, Tessie spoke volumes in the way she could gauge people’s
moods and try to behave accordingly. Extremely smart, she would obey anything
we said immediately. She also loved walking over people’s feet and as my cousin
Sharon will bear testimony, loved licking a person’s face till they woke up.
For all her strength and size, Tessie was a very gentle animal. Children
could jump on her, pull her ears and tail, drag her around by the collar – she would
not even growl or bare her teeth. The most she would do is shake them off and
run away. Such an angel.
Even while she started losing her strength, she remained fiercely
independent. Painfully, she would drag herself up the stairs before we could
walk down to give her food. After Batty arrived on the scene, Tessie let her
know who the boss was! They did become friends eventually, and I am sure Batty
too misses her.
The last time I saw Tessie, I almost left without saying bye to
her. If I walked out the gate without yelling “Byeeeee Tessie-girl” and giving
her a pat on the head or cuddling her (much to my mother’s annoyance), she
would get this sad look and psych me with those big doleful eyes. Talk about a
puppy dog look: she had it perfected. This time was the same – even though I
did not know it was the last time, I went back in, patted her head, kissed her
nose and said bye.
When I cry at her loss, and forgive me the cliché, it is for a
faithful friend. The thought that I will never hear Tessie bark for me, or see
her gambol around my legs…
I like to think there’s a doggie heaven where the wind blows
gently through her furry back and where there is plenty of lush grass for her
to run through and a never-ending supply of big juicy bones for her to gnaw on
and friends who love her as much as I do.
Miss you Tessie-girl.
