While Brownie's affiliations with humans grew, he remained the ferocious alpha for other dogs. An abandoned pet dog found her way into our neighborhood. Led by Brownie, the other street dogs hounded and dominated her. The world of street dogs is not known for charity and she was unprepared for this rough and tough world. She could barely scavenge food to survive. On a rainy afternoon, my mother saw her sitting alone in the middle of the park, staring blankly at a distance in the rain, oblivious to the downpour and her surroundings. We called this dog Jimmy.
Jimmy was growing weaker every day. So, I decided to feed her. Late in the evening, we walked Brownie to the park and my Dad blocked the gate. Brownie was trapped inside. Outside, I tried to cajole Jimmy, offering her water and food, but she would have none of it. She was either completely heart-broken or too scared of the consequences. Finally, we had to give up and let Brownie out. He came out in a state of shock and shaking with fear. He had been betrayed by the very people he loved. I had to reassure him with pats and strokes before returning home.
A few days later, Jimmy was injured by a motorbike, and then disappeared the next day. We feared the worst for her. A couple of months later, I saw a woman taking two dogs out for a walk; one of whom resembled Jimmy. She had adopted her! This abandoned dog story had a happy ending, unlike many others.
Brownie loved mass gatherings - groups playing in the park, festival gatherings, wedding processions and even seeing-off visitors. Election days were exciting, with so many people stepping out to cast their votes. On such days, one can see small groups of people hotly debating on politics; and Brownie next to the circle listening keenly. If he had the rights, he would have cast his vote for the right candidate :)
Most memorably, he decided to visit the Durga Puja Pandal with us.
Durga Pooja Pandal |
Brownie at Durga Pooja |
He saw us walking in the direction of pandal; having heard the sounds and smelt the smells emanating from there since a few days, he decided to visit. The guards with sticks at the gate did not look particularly friendly to him, so, he slipped in through a gap in the tent. Once inside, he made it embarrassingly clear that he was with us by sticking close to us. However, nobody seemed to notice him in the crowd. What a happening place this was! Dazzlingly lit, people dressed in their finery, the perfumes of incense sticks intermingling with aroma of food and soulful music. We quickly took the darshan of the deity, Ma Durga and were in a quandary on what to do next. With Brownie in tow, we could not sit to watch the performances or visit the food stalls. Exactly then a woman saw him, and shrieked in Bengali "Eeeeeeeeeee! Kukura!" This was followed by a lot of confusion, and we quickly exited the Pandal, with Brownie in tow, before any of us could get caught in a tight spot.
Brownie's age began to slow him down. His visits to the market shortened to the corner of the street and then just across the street. His power of smell reduced too. Earlier, when we got him leftover bones, he would catch the whiff from far-off . Now, we had to take the bag near him before he could decipher the treat. His front teeth had worn out too. Multiple injuries on his right hind leg, meant that he could not walk straight. He had this peculiar walk that took him ahead sideways, and his moves resembled that of a knight on a chess board.
While earlier he survived on a healthy diet of leftovers, suddenly there was excess of food. Many people became had turned dog-lovers without understanding dogs. Sometimes they offered a whole loaf of bread without comprehending that the creature weighed one-fourth of an adult human, and could not eat as much. Some people fed yellow rice khichdi on Tuesdays and Saturdays, probably on the advice of an astrologer. Our fit and healthy dog turned into a fat cylinder.
His duties towards our apartment, however, continued undeterred- morning walk, dropping kids to school, prayers in the evening and guarding at night. He had to share the park with other dogs, but he was still the alpha and respected. By now, I could understand Brownie quite well. If he wanted to play, he would put his paw on my foot. If he did not want me to leave, he would put circle his paws around my foot. If we wanted a pat, he would call me with a typical howl-bark. If he was fast asleep, I would not disturb him. One day, he looked asleep, and I suspected he was not. So, I walked past and turned around after crossing the gate. Brownie was slyly checking, with his one eye open in a slit, to see if I had gone away. He was pretending to be asleep to avoid my affections. The crafty dog!
In December 2019, severe winters descended on Delhi with bleak sun, chilly winds and gloomy hazy days. It was bone chilling. Some dog lovers gave Brownie a sweater and shawl, that he gladly accepted. This was a first, as dog-jackets or sacks offered before had been promptly discarded. This time, however, he sat on the sweater and the guards wrapped him in it at night. Then someone gifted him a small mattress, which was accepted too. Over the years, the guards of the society had changed many times. But they all valued his company. The guards put out his clothes for drying on the bushes in day time, and wrapped him up in shawls and sweater at night. Royal treatment for a street dog indeed!
Brownie was approximately 15 years old by then - very old by street dog standards. Many dogs vied for his territory, including one who looked like him, and would walk by, pretending to be Brownie. During these cold days, one dog from the park gang approached Brownie - a short dog, looking almost like a beagle with a thick furry coat. She had lost one eye, either due to cataract or genetic causes. He tolerated her at first, she had to keep her distance, and not eye his food. She would sleep near the light of the gate, which probably helped her bear the cold. We called her "Chhoti". Brownie soon declared Chhoti as the heir to his throne, by allowing her to share his mattress and the gate. Under his keen eye, he started to train her to do guard duties, learn to recognize the residents of the society, and receive pats from his friends. We used to joke about this new apprenticeship, but we did not realize that Brownie was dead-serious about it.
On March 22, 2020, India went under a nation-wide lock-down. People stopped moving out of homes, the morning walks, the schools, the evening prayers and the coming and going of visitors - his entire life came to a grinding halt.
Someday, in April, I noticed that Brownie was missing. The guards had not seen him in last few days. We searched for him in the park and around but could not find him. Dogs, I learnt, walk away from their pack in their final days. This is a natural instinct to protect their family and we had no choice but to accept his decision. It is sad, that a dog who was so well looked-after all, spent his last few days in solitude. But I console myself, reminding myself that we never owned Brownie; rather he was his own master and owned us.
He had chosen his own life-paths all along, as in the end.
1 comment:
As I said before... this blog sure brings Brownie back to life... I'm sure he looks upon the people he was most fond of and his soul still gaurds them during their walks to the park and nearby markets.. he afterall was the master... RIP Brownie
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