The Dogs

Ode to Mili the Darling..

I had to bid goodbye to a dog yesterday…it was a bitter sweet moment, when the loss of a darling dog collided with the relief of watching her agony come to an end. 

Mili entered our home in December 2016. Ranikhet winter was at its coldest greyest best and there was this TINY puppy on the stairs, thin and weak and so so tiny. Daughter remarked that this little one would leave the world soon—shiver to death on the field, or become a quick snack for the leopard, or just get mowed down by a speeding cold car. I didnt want to hear what she was suggesting..we had just lost a dog, and I still yearned for a cocker spaniel in the house.. Adopting a little street puppy was just not there on the mind, but determined daughters can road-roller parents into anything..

That tiny puppy was brought inside, given food and warmth ( a tiny cape was made by stitching two swatches together), and I was still yearning for a cocker spaniel. In a few hours, this little puppy changed all that. She climbed up beside me, attacked knitting needles, chomped till she fell into bloated slumber, and followed the old Pepper everywhere. The knitters called her Mili ( because she found us), and that was her name.

In her short life of almost 5 years, Mili became the Darling Diva of our home. She removed every trace of cocker spaniel yearning from my heart, opened the doors of our home to Bruni and Sher Singh, grabbed the best window view for herself, and lived the good life. I knitted a new sweater for her, every year…and she hated them. Tore them up into shreds and tore up the other dog coats too, for good measure.  Yes, she ensured that all dogs were treated like dogs and no dog has worn a sweater or coat for the last 3 years…we have been made to believe that dogs come with adequate warm fur and fat. They don’t need Human intervention, thank you! 

Mili arranged the toll-tax ritual at home. No visitor could enter the house and talk to me till all four dogs were given a biscuit from the blue-lid biscuit bottle. Bone pieces from the red-lid bottle were ignored by Mili. The other not-so-smart dogs couldn’t make out this subtle difference!

And then, there was this surreal method of sleeping with Mommy. She always, always curled up into a tiny jalebi, and this tiny jalebi would sleep exactly on that body part which was aching or hurting or was sore. Mili has soothed my old fractured shoulder, warmed aching legs or just melted the soreness of my arms. intuitive warming pad, that’s mili for you..

The knitters loved her. Tea time would see her edging slowly and surely towards the biscuits. She would wait for her biscuits to be handed over to her. Mamta needed a tiny tail wag, Meena would melt if she cocked her head just so, Niru was a pushover for a paw-paw, and Hema was always there. By the time tea was over, Mili would have quietly eaten a dozen biscuits and some ten grams of “Mishri” or Jaggery, got petted and patted to her heart’s desire, and even checked out some cushy laps for a tiny snooze.

In the midst of the passage of these lovely days, Mili developed a malignant tumour in her urinary bladder. The medico in me was planning trips to the vet, investigations, surgery and meds. The humane Mother in me won this round and I chose to just give her a good time and let her enjoy her time in the world.

5 months were absolutely normal and nice. Mili ate her food, slept and snored, chased birds and growled at Cheetah, and ate her biscuits. But the weight loss just wouldn’t stop. She became gaunt but remained graceful about it.We waited out the last few hours together and on 2nd October, when the entire country is on holiday, she left us at 10.20 am. 

I will not share that time, but would you like to know what were the last words she heard, whispered into her ear by this Mommy for 5 years?

I wished her a good journey ahead.I wished that she now takes birth as a beloved daughter in a house full of books and questions. I wished that she chooses to become an author and writes her first book as she steps into adulthood…By then, this Mommy will be in her eighties, and when she reads about this young new literary sensation in the world, she will know its the soul of Mili..

 

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