Paw prints on the heart

I was in a dilemma, should we make him a permanent member of our family or leave him behind with his pack. Wouldn’t it be unethical if I disowned him now having raised him this far? But will he be able to adapt to a new environment if he accompanied us? He was, after all, not fully domesticated. Undecided, I hoped a solution would emerge before I left on posting.

He came uninvited in our life, making my bungalow his home. Given the infant status, we allowed him into our ecosystem, with a caveat that he would not reside inside the house; he could stay anywhere in the sprawling lawns all around. Shiny black in colour, with a small snow-white patch on his chest, I named him after the first whiskey I had ever tasted — Black Dog.

Simba, our Labrador, wasn’t pleased sharing his space with anybody. A lion in gait and manner, jealousy was perceptible in his actions whenever the little one got more attention. It is always difficult for a single child to learn the concept of sharing.

What can’t be cured has to be endured, the senior soon made peace with his junior. It was a treat watching them cuddle together on cold winter mornings or hunt after squirrels together in the garden. The young brat would invariably get involved in a brawl with street dogs and the elder one would nurse his wounds. It was then that we felt that separating the two wasn’t a good idea; Simba would feel lonely and Black Dog may not get the required care and affection.

Then one day tragedy struck. A paralytic stroke followed by a fatal heart attack took Simba away from us. It was painful to see Black Dog run aimlessly all over, searching for his mate who had been lowered in a grave. After a couple of days, tired and dejected, he stopped coming to our house for meals and soon disappeared from our life. We searched for him for days, but our hunt got us nowhere.

It was now time to leave and I mustered courage to bid a final goodbye to our deceased buddy. My eyes fell on something dark beside the grave in the dimly lit surroundings; it was Black Dog, visibly emaciated and frail. I took him in my lap and caressed his body as tears welled up in my eyes. It was the moment to share our common grief. I wonder if he understood my emotions but I could read the question his grieving eyes had: ‘Where is my soul mate?’ I had no answer.

I steeled my heart and took the difficult decision which I knew would haunt me with increasing poignancy. Both our ‘canine sapiens’ would stay back at Jhansi, one ‘resting in peace’ and the other on his vigil. Their paw prints would always remain etched on my heart; the song has ended but the melody lingers on.