He was the love of my life
He entered my world on a rainy, murky day.
It wasn’t our first meeting. Our parents had ensured that we knew each other before he came to live with us. He was a cute, white, fluffy thing with curious eyes and a tail that wouldn’t stop wagging. We named him Dobby.
Being the younger of the two sisters, I had never quite grasped the concept of someone needing my Parents’ attention more than me. I struggled to accept him in the family.
I still remember the first night he spent at our home. I was trying to finish my homework and he would not stop barking. Angry, I went and sat next to him. He being 6 months and I being 10 years old, we both lacked maturity in dealing with the present situation. I scolded him to the best of my abilities, he turned his back to me and did not relent — for 2 whole hours! In the end it was my Mom who came and persuaded him to face us and eat something.
He was naughty. And energetic. He would tear newspapers, clothes, footwear, books and whatever came his way. We learnt to keep whatever we thought of as worth preserving away from his reach. He loved plucking flowers off my mother’s precious plants and nibbling on my daddy’s favorite shoes whenever he got a chance.
He grew up to be a huge dog with a his own, unique, personality traits.
He hated getting wet. That meant giving him a bath was difficult. Inexplicably, he would always come to know when there was a bath scheduled. The process would start with one of us coaxing him to come out and then dragging him if that didn’t work. He would resign himself to his fate once he was tied and would allow us to give him a bath. But as soon as the spray of water stopped, he would shake himself vigorously, giving us a bath in turn!
He could harm no one, not even the monkeys whom he detested. We have a huge garden with many fruit trees. Monkeys often come to eat the produce. These monkeys were his arch enemies. They had a nice game between them. The monkeys would arrive and at their first sound Dobby would go tearing after them. It was a priceless scene, watching him trying to reach them, hopping and jumping, barking incessantly. But they stayed high-up in the trees, frustrating him to no end.
He was an emotional dog. He liked being petted and pampered. His size belied his gentle attitude. Anyone entering our Home was sure to become his friend in their first visit, and love him in their subsequent ones. Adults hugged him and the kids rolled with him. He had so much love for everyone in the World.
Dobby always needed a human near him. And AC. He could sacrifice the cool air for a Human presence but the moment one of us went into a cool room, he would obediently follow. Whenever we spoke, he would cock his ears towards whoever was speaking and would acknowledge with a wag of his tail when his name was mentioned. He laughed at our jokes and it was him that I hugged and cried when I was upset.
As time passed, he became a part of my life. I finished school, and then left home to go to a College in Chennai. In the 4 years that I studied there, I came home every 6 months, not knowing if he had given the spot his heart had for me to someone else. But every time, he was there, waiting for me and giving me a tearful goodbye when I left.
After College I got a job in Bangalore. Some 5 months back I got news that he wasn’t doing well. I did not pay much attention to it. He used to get sick all the time and would recover just as easily. However, I didn’t take into account that now he was nearly 13 years old.
My parents told me that they were taking care of him and that everything was alright. My sister had visited him in Feb and had reported that he was doing OK. I was due a visit to my Home in August. Throughout the last month, I kept hearing that his health was getting worse. There were good days, but they were always followed by the bad ones. He was detected with Diabetes, and became blind from one eye. Now he would rarely get up and had all but stopped eating.
A week back, my mom called me and asked me to give my last message to him. She said she would put the phone on loudspeaker and put it next to his ears.
I bid him a tearful goodbye, not knowing what to say other than that I loved him and I was sorry I wasn’t there for him now.
Our whole neighborhood mourned his passing. I called my sister and we cried for a good part of the night. I put up a post on Facebook with a couple of our photos. The post received hundreds of likes and dozens of comments. Most of these were from the people who had met Dobby only occasionally or not at all, but they had heard of our stories (through me or my sister) and expressed sadness on his death.
My parents are keen that we kids remember him as the healthy, prancing dog who would come and lick our faces raw every time we came home from College.
Some of the best childhood memories I have were made growing up next to him, enjoying the smoothness of his fur and comfort of his warmth.
I am still going Home in August. There will be no Dobby to welcome me, demanding that he be petted first before I am allowed to even look at other members of my family. No Dobby to jump between all the group hugs and no Dobby to demand long walks on otherwise lazy evenings.
He was the love of my life. I miss him.
