Tuesday, June 24, 2014

BUDDY, SHERU and other blessings


It has been over 10 days now since Ricky left. Like someone had said, ‘We didn’t realize we were making memories. We were just having fun’.


( Finding ‘Our sign’ in an ancient stone sculpture at The National Museum )


Two Sundays came and went in a flash. There was so much to do. The weather’s changing fast from very dry and hot to moist and humid, and hot still!

P has been working in the garden a lot potting new plants- this time trying out a few experiments with vermiculite instead of plain old soil. Quite a number of the plants look really promising while a few are sad and morose. It has been rather difficult this time to save the plants anyway, what with the terrible heat and almost zero humidity. Five of my precious plants just dried up and died. I’m really looking forward to P’s experiments that promise stronger roots that’ll keep the plants alive for sure.










Ginger, Buddy and Shadow seem pretty relieved to be able to stay out on their walks for longer now, with the stifling heat no longer forcing us all to get back to the air –conditioning.




Then there is football, of course. I do not want to get into the intricacies here but I feel rather like the Hogwart’s sorting hat at the moment. Which team does one root for? When your country isn’t playing, that is. ‘D-I-F-F-I-C-U-L-T, verry D-I-F-F-I-C-U-L-T!

As I ponder over all the reasons that I’ve had to be thankful for this week, I’m grateful there are so many. One that so very close to my heart is Sheru.




My precious boy is fast regaining his strength. He is eating almost like when he was well and fit, and is walking all over the campus again. I no longer leave his food in his bowl at the gate like I used to earlier. Now I just take it down to him and sit talking to him till he finishes. Just to make sure he eats all of it.

Those early days after he had just come back from the shelter were so uncertain. He had lost almost all his appetite and wasn’t eating more than just a handful. Everyday I debated with myself about admitting him at the vet’s. But then there was this little feling that said all he needed was a lot of love and good food and rest, which he seemed to get at this place which he had known all his life. Kind words from you, my blog friends helped me more than you can imagine. And then there was Ricky. He used to say with all the innocence of a child, ‘Sheru HAS to get well. If I think he’ll die I get nightmares. I can’t sleep at night.’ Exactly his words. And may be they did their magic, for Sheru is definitely going to live. And like in the old days, he would lift his old fuzzy head up, sniff the air and wag and whine whenever I happen to pass by, even if it’s not food-time.

He has taken up permanent residence in our block (on the ground floor) near the lift to our apartment (which is on the fourth floor). Again, I’m thankful for the fact that no one has raised an objection to his being there. Someone has been leaving him food and water. Good intentions, I agree. But I somehow feel every dog deserves a little respect when it comes to food and I do not believe in throwing around pieces of bread, biscuits or rice on the floor. How much effort does it take to leave a disposable bowl or paper?

Besides, Sheru doesn’t eat any of it so it’s just litter that might enrage some residents who aren’t all that dog friendly, which in turn might make things difficult for Sheru.

I haven’t told anyone anything but quietly asked the ‘garbage-guy’ to pick up any ‘stray food’ lying around.

They are kind simple souls. Unless told, they never remove any of the food even when it is no longer edible. They imagine Sheru might eat some of it when hungry.

I explained that Sheru has his fill of fresh home-cooked meals and milk which is his favorite and will not go hungry so they need not hesitate to pick up uneaten food. Now at least there’s no litter. His water bowl lies undisturbed though and I often find it full when I go to fill it. Bless whoever has been taking the trouble to do that!

Continuing to count my blessings I come to today’s – Our dearest, sweetest Buddy boy has been with us now for five years! It was on this day, in fact just a few hours back from this hour one dry, warm evening in Hyderabad five years back that Buddy- then Tommy- came home to live with us.

Now, when I watch him snoozing on the sofa next to me watching me have my green-tea with half open eyes, hoping for a biscuit, I once again realize how he lives in a large place in my heart. He is at peace totally and doesn’t realize it is an important day. But as I watch him I know how important this day is for me- Us – in so many ways. It feels like he just came home the other day. Then again, sometimes, it feels like he has been with us forever….








Thank you, Buddy for being OUR Boy. I cannot be grateful enough that you are family. HAPPY ‘GOTCHA’ Day!!




Sunday, June 8, 2014

Can You tell?


A certain seven year old is holidaying with us….








Thank you so much for your kind wishes and words for Sheru. They mean a lot. Sorry we haven’t been around much and haven’t been visiting blogs. We promise we will catch up soon.

Have a good week ahead.




Saturday, June 7, 2014

A Story of Love..





He stood by Sheru’s side with folded hands, his forehead crinkled in concentration as he prayed.

‘This handband that I got, it’s for good luck. May be it’ll help Sheru get well’, he said earnestly.

And then he said something that left me speechless,’ If there isn’t much the vet can do for him, may be his time is up’.


All of seven years, Ricky is wise beyond his years. And so amazingly kind, sensitive and insightful he makes me wonder if the stories of a new emerging breed of evolved humans are actually true…


The day he arrived for his holiday here with us, it was a scorching hot typical June day in Delhi. But Ricky refused to stay indoors.

‘I’d go out even if it’s 46 degrees C outside for a dog,’ he told me. Ever since he arrived, he has been helping me feed Sheru three times a day in addition to his usual walks with Ginger, Buddy and Shadow.


Yes, Sheru is back.

That morning I woke up with a headache. In spite of a very tiring hot day I'd slept fretfully, debating with myself my decision to bring Sheru back from the shelter.
His external wounds are healed but that paw isn't going to be the same ever. He hobbles around slowly, almost painfully, just about tip toeing on it. The bones aren't aligned well. At his age and with his feeble constitution, it would be almost inhuman to subject him to anaesthesia and surgery.

Will he be able to cope? Will he be able to keep away from the cars? Should I let him be at the shelter for the rest of his life? I can't take him home, I can't be around all the time- it wouldn't be fair to him that I ask him to adjust to apartment life at this age and it wouldn't be fair to Gin,  Bud and Shadow that I ask them to adjust with Sheru as he is. Am I right in bringing him back?
There was no turning back though once we were at the shelter gate.
There he was, looking so small and forlorn amongst the younger, robust dogs that competed with each other to get at the treats I'd taken and to leave their smells on my dress- I'd always thought it was more of a cat thing!
Sheru looked lost and sad. Over two weeks at this unfamiliar place with so much competition had taken a toll on my boy. His paw has healed well, but at the expense of his spirit.

Most parts of his drive back home, he tried hard to make sense of the moving world outside. When tired, he'd nap on my lap.
The guards were delighted to see him and promised to keep an eye on him.

But I was worried. Terribly worried because Sheru didn’t seem his old self. He’d caught a chest infection, had lost his appetite – probably the meds, the heat and everything new at the shelter - and was far too weak and sad.

He still responded to my touch though, woke up and drank a little milk. That night and the next morning, all he ate was a handful of chicken liver and rice. I’d been lacing his food with meds and vitamins, thankful for each mouthful that he took, hoping and praying I’d know if I need to make a decision.

Till Ricky came along.

‘I don’t like to see Sheru like this,’ he says,’ I don’t want him to die. I’ll get bad nightmares if I think of him dying. I feel a little happy because he’s eating again.’

It must be Ricky’s good luck charm , his deeply earnest prayers and a seven year Old's innocence that has revived Sheru. Today he walked all around the campus, passed potty in two days and ate more than he has eaten in the last three days. For the first time in five days, he wagged when I tousled the fur on his head.

That one moment of joy and of overwhelming gratefulness, I’ll remember for ever….

This evening I found Sheru in front of the lift to our home – does he actually know?


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