dog
(this had to happen sooner or later: the dog blog. inspired by the litter of puppies under our coconut tree. right now they're resting between meals. meals is taking five under my window, looking disillusioned with motherhood, while her children grunt softly and lie dreaming in a heap.)
mac is a black dog. one of the blackest. so he scares people and makes little girls cry. because apart from being black, he is also big and has a white grin. nandini, yesterday's little girl, saw right away that this was a dangerous dog. and though she was told repeatedly that he wouldn't do "anything", she, knowing better, continued to scream every shade of blue.
he is dangerous. not because he'll bite; it wouldn't occur to him. not because he'll scratch or paw; that's reserved for early morning declarations of love. not because he drools buckets; like an old golden retriever i used to know, who even had his own towel and a mopping service. no, mac's problem is quite different. he has little or no awareness of his size. and he will try to get on your lap. if you're standing up, he'll aim for the shoulders.
also, he will whack you continuously with his otter-tail, try to lick your face, all the while regaling you with warm dog breath. once the initial pleasantries are done, he will sit at your feet and watch intently as you transport food to your mouth. then, he will put his paw on your knee, begging for a scratch behind the ear. this will soon extend to a belly-rub. and the minute you stop, the paw is back on your knee. very few people appreciate this kind of neurotic need for affection.
dogs are like bottomless pits when it comes to love. and food. this is also true of some dog-lovers. we once knew a dog named lucky, who was found dying in a patch of sun outside a temple, crows pecking at her eyes. she was taken home to a bath and an obscene amount of love. also, she was fed a small planet. in her later years, visitors to the house often mistook the dog for a bolster with a tail. she'd never been known to refuse a snack. or a belly-rub.
some people like their dogs to do tricks. i've personally not had much luck with tricks; all the dogs we've ever had have been extremely individualistic. the most self-possessed dog i've ever met was rufus. a basset hound with deeply reproachful eyes, and ears that had to be tied up on his head when he ate. erykah badu-style.
rufus once auditioned for a hush puppies ad, during the course of which he ate seven packets of biscuits and refused to do a single thing they asked him to. he would not sit. he would not stay. and he most definitely would not look soulfully at a pair of shoes. they might have lucked out if they stuck a piece of sandpaper on the loafers; rufus had a purple passion for sandpaper and 50-rupee notes.
our neighbourhood has lots of dogs. they each belong to a different gang, and they're cool, and tough. some of them are friendly. and when i go for a walk in the morning, four of them escort me to the park. in return all they ask for is to be allowed to jump up on me and unplug my walkman. one of them is a hairless little thing, with oily skin, scabs all over, and chocolate-cake eyes. she gets so excited when she's petted that she can't stand still and squeals endlessly. soon she'll settle down and melt slowly under your palm for as long as you let her.
mac is a black dog. one of the blackest. so he scares people and makes little girls cry. because apart from being black, he is also big and has a white grin. nandini, yesterday's little girl, saw right away that this was a dangerous dog. and though she was told repeatedly that he wouldn't do "anything", she, knowing better, continued to scream every shade of blue.
he is dangerous. not because he'll bite; it wouldn't occur to him. not because he'll scratch or paw; that's reserved for early morning declarations of love. not because he drools buckets; like an old golden retriever i used to know, who even had his own towel and a mopping service. no, mac's problem is quite different. he has little or no awareness of his size. and he will try to get on your lap. if you're standing up, he'll aim for the shoulders.
also, he will whack you continuously with his otter-tail, try to lick your face, all the while regaling you with warm dog breath. once the initial pleasantries are done, he will sit at your feet and watch intently as you transport food to your mouth. then, he will put his paw on your knee, begging for a scratch behind the ear. this will soon extend to a belly-rub. and the minute you stop, the paw is back on your knee. very few people appreciate this kind of neurotic need for affection.
dogs are like bottomless pits when it comes to love. and food. this is also true of some dog-lovers. we once knew a dog named lucky, who was found dying in a patch of sun outside a temple, crows pecking at her eyes. she was taken home to a bath and an obscene amount of love. also, she was fed a small planet. in her later years, visitors to the house often mistook the dog for a bolster with a tail. she'd never been known to refuse a snack. or a belly-rub.
some people like their dogs to do tricks. i've personally not had much luck with tricks; all the dogs we've ever had have been extremely individualistic. the most self-possessed dog i've ever met was rufus. a basset hound with deeply reproachful eyes, and ears that had to be tied up on his head when he ate. erykah badu-style.
rufus once auditioned for a hush puppies ad, during the course of which he ate seven packets of biscuits and refused to do a single thing they asked him to. he would not sit. he would not stay. and he most definitely would not look soulfully at a pair of shoes. they might have lucked out if they stuck a piece of sandpaper on the loafers; rufus had a purple passion for sandpaper and 50-rupee notes.
our neighbourhood has lots of dogs. they each belong to a different gang, and they're cool, and tough. some of them are friendly. and when i go for a walk in the morning, four of them escort me to the park. in return all they ask for is to be allowed to jump up on me and unplug my walkman. one of them is a hairless little thing, with oily skin, scabs all over, and chocolate-cake eyes. she gets so excited when she's petted that she can't stand still and squeals endlessly. soon she'll settle down and melt slowly under your palm for as long as you let her.
posted by Deepa at 1:20 AM
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