Biskit and her Dog Day Afternoon

Sundays are meant for living life without interruptions.. No Hema sweeping floors, bustling around and throwing us off the couch…Mom takes us for a long morning walk, whooshes around the house for a couple of hours and then, after a quick lunch, sits with her coffee ( Sunday indulgence), Sunday newspaper and knitting and we are on our own.

On this sunny afternoon, I spy a lot of water in the bucket! The family detective (when it comes to water in buckets),Peppu, missed the sparkle while searching for her stone.

But once she saw me and the bucket, Madam had to come and park her posterior. She is incapable of any movement, other than chasing the splashes of water. But, its Sunday and there are no takers for that game.

Boring….boring…..really boring. Mom continues to sit and knit and read that infernal piece of newsprint and I continue to yawn, stretch and generally show the world how boring this family can be.

Finally, she gets her act together, and I can see a walk coming up. The evening walk. Leashes are fastened and we trot behind the slowest jogger in the world. He stares at the trees and the sunshine, and Mom strangles us while she too stops and stares at the shadows, the shiny leaves, the dance of the sun-rays and Nature in general.

Aah…..here we are at the golf course with its warm grass, rocks and manure heaps and those delicious scattered cattle bones bleached by the sun . It has slopes made for running wild and my racing companions are waiting for me!!

Meet Tinku Tiger and Brownie Tiger– my friends for this evening hour. We race and we sprint and we jostle and we have fun, fun, fun!!!

But that Pepper!!! She just sits and guards her stone, the water bowl and the leashes. Drinking water after all that racing is a challenge. Thank God for Mom and her smart moves, which make that big black lump leave some water for me. When all the water has been exhausted, when we are totally exhausted, when Mom has exhausted her crochet yarn, its time to go home. I walk slowly…tongue refusing to stay inside my panting mouth, pine needles poking my ears and feet, the setting sun glaring into my eyes. Home is waiting for us–with sunlight flooding the rooms, with the most comfortable couch calling out to my tired bones.

Summer is that strange time of the year when the sun goes to sleep long after I have settled down on my comfortable couch and entered dreamland.