I am one of those kinds who doesn't get ‘feels” in a certain movie when Will smith is killed by the zombies but does when the German Shepherd dies! I love animals, especially dogs. Not that I love Labs or pugs or any pure bred ones specifically, I love “dogs”, strayed, street, diseased, angry, thieves, bullies, pirates, all of them! I cannot keep as many pets as I wish because I don’t have a supportive (animal friendly) family. So, I sometimes foster homeless ones I find on streets until they are adopted. Even my “cold hearted” folks have loved them eventually while I have had my share of scolding and lectures, but none of them ever stayed permanently. (The guinea pigs, the mighty cat, the lab rats, and a couple of other creatures being an exception.)
One of cold mornings this January when my dad went out in the garage, he saw something that made him yell my name. Intrigued, I went out to check and I will never forget what I saw. I clicked it for remembrance. A furry little puppy shivering in cold was curled up in one of the stairs. Prima facie it appeared that the puppy had strayed away from his home as he would howl(cry) all the time, specially at night when the streets would empty. However, he would stop when I would come out to check on him but would start again when I would leave. I kept feeding him hoping someone would surely come looking for him. He was a cute furry li'll puppy after all. But nobody turned up. Over a couple of days, the howling became a nuisance to the neighbors as it broke the monotony of their boring domestic life. So began the mission “get rid of the howling motherpucker”. Several failed attempts were made by the "mob" including my dad, who had been unanimously chosen as the unspoken “messiah” to salvage them of their miseries.
So the puppy was dropped far off, across the ridge, by the canal that was miles away, into the park, and I assume even into the Mordor itself. But somehow the almighty "Hobbit" puppy returned every time, found his way back to our door. It was weird and like all the misfortune I was blamed for this one as well. Few had also started smelling foul play. People had started whispering and our garage door was looked at slyly, it was after all where he would come to rest after he had made lives miserable during the day.
I continued to feed him, against the wish of “victims” that had fallen prey to one puppy! The next door “Agony aunt” was the best of the lot, she attributed the troubles of not just the neighborhood but the entire economy to him. There were days she would give me looks and vibes as if I was harboring an Al Quaida terrorist. But, terrorist, he turned out to be! After settling in, he showed his true colors that had people formulating theories how he was purposely abandoned by his owner as this was a dog sent by the "Satan" himself, straight from hell. An average Indian makes quite a conspiracy theorist!
So, over the next few months, it had its share of thrashing from frustrated uncles and aunties in the neighborhood for littering, pooping on their door, peeing on their cars, breaking and entering, stealing their gold, almost everything. I was frowned upon for trying to save him. Also, he nearly died after being run over by motorbike twice. Survival of the fittest, Darwin said and this one somehow did and made his space amongst the other dogs in the street.
It was sometime around April, when we were out for vacations, I got a call from our uncle whom I had asked to feed him in my absence, to inform that the “notorious, evil, son of Satan, Giglamesh” dog was no longer seen on the streets; he went missing the next day we left. They said that he must be loitering around with other dogs and he will be back. Nobody cares beyond this for stray dogs. A few days later, one of my cousins called to inform that the dog had returned, but malnourished and he won’t eat. He described that he was weak to an extent where he couldn't even move and sooner or later he will be dead. I could picture people celebrating on the streets as they had been freed of their miseries. “Jejus” had finally answered their prayers.
We returned after weeks and I looked around in hope to find the dog's body to give it a burial at least It was then I saw a skeleton crawling, wagging its tail from under our car parked in the garage. Every bone visible under his dirty skin, eyes popping out of the starved frame. Hours of futile debating whether to take him to a vet or to call an NGO next morning as the “Evil dog” might be rabid or diseased and might infect the humanity, he was left on his destiny. It made me sad and very angry. I tried to feed him that night and surprisingly he started eating and became better. When I took him to the vet few days later, I was taken aback when the doctor said that it had no particular disease other than being malnourished.The vet said that it’s rare that dogs starve themselves to death when their “master” leaves them. Like humans dogs also get depressed. Depressed of what I wondered. He survived all the thrashing and accidents! And this one lived on street, fed on garbage, what “master” was he talking about? Like everybody else, my father was astonished at the extraordinary behavior of a street dog and proclaimed the dog "Special" and gave him a permanent shelter in our garage. He was no ordinary dog now. Since then we have made several attempts to get him adopted but the "Giglamesh" hasn't lasted anywhere more than a night.
Oh, the name you must wonder! My new born niece who is a year old speaks half god and half gibberish. One of the words she can utter is “couv” (cow) and to her every four legged is a “couv”. So, every time she looks at the dog in our garage she point her finger and exclaims “Couv eyy”! (look, a Cow!). So the name "Cow" stuck. I liked"Giglamesh" more! ~~
|"That" January morning|
|I failed to see the evilness that day.|
|That garage stair that became his bed|
|I must starve until I die!|
|One of the accidents!|
|And the others that followed!|
|He stopped eating again until we bought him back,look at that evil smile!|
|A failed attempt to rehabilitate him on a farmhouse|
|He loves to photo bomb.Whenever he can, he must!|
|On usual days,returns from the swamp wars|
|In spare time he likes to eat the souls of the evil soft toys in our house.|