Tags:
Journalism of Courage
Ever since I stopped working my son has tried to pep me up about the pleasures of having a dog in the house. After nearly six years of stalling the issue, I finally agreed— under protest.
The question was which breed? A daschund, I suggested brightly. Or maybe a pocket dog? He looked at me in disdain I’d like a GD. A GD? What’s that I asked, almost in awe.
A Great Dane. That huge animal — in my house? No way. My boy has a way with him. They are gentle, he told me softly, gentler than the gentlest. He smothered me with pictures of GD pups. Blue Danes with blue eyes. Fawn ones with black muzzles and deep sad eyes. Harlequins — white ones with torn black patches. Brindled — with tiger stripes. They are gentle family dogs, craving love and attention. Please, please, please, it has to be a GD. You will never regret it. My heart, which I had hardened for the purpose, dropped and melted. My boy has a way with him.
The next question was what would his name be? We went through the shortlist. The family decided on Zeus. Zeus — the King of Gods. This creature was certainly the king of dogs (note the reverse order of the word), so Zeus was appropriate.
Our gorgeous little ‘bhaiyaa’ flew in from Uttar Pradesh like royalty — a dog fit for the gods! He came in a big box and was as scared as a three-month-old could be in completely unfamiliar surroundings. With his fawn coat which often appeared like beaten gold, his black muzzle which seemed freshly painted, his wet nose, his dark eyes that looked as if it was lined with kajal, his doleful expression, he’s the best thing that has happened to this family in a long while.
He is growing at an amazing pace and is no longer the little fellow who had crept into our house, scared and uncertain. He is not quite a macho dog, yet he struts around the house like a king. He takes his own decisions and certainly knows what he wants and what he does not!
As such, he is a quiet fellow but for at least an hour in the day he is bitten by the crazy bug. That’s when he chases imaginary objects, runs in circles trying to eat his tail, shoots around the house like a meteor with his ears flying, chews his water bowl, throws it around and barks at it when it does not get up and come to him! He runs from one corner to another, bangs himself, falls flat on the floor with his feet in the air, pops his eyes at the little kids who adore him and grins at their delight. If you pat him by mistake he will fall at your feet and ask for a rub with his beseeching eyes!
He was right, my son. I have not regretted it — not yet! By Zeus, I can swear that.
