Nineteen years later, I am stronger and I don’t run. But I can’t pat them either. I tried it with one, and his hackles rose. I can bring it out in them I suppose.
But I can’t resist their eyes. I mean, all dogs look sad! So, I do the little things, like bad-mouthing or blogging about people who are mean to dogs, and giving them food (from a distance of course) when they look really starved. Smiling at them never seems to work, so I have given it up for now.
But I can’t resist their eyes. I mean, all dogs look sad! So, I do the little things, like bad-mouthing or blogging about people who are mean to dogs, and giving them food (from a distance of course) when they look really starved. Smiling at them never seems to work, so I have given it up for now.
Which brings me to the subject of the post. One morning, while rushing from the andheri station to the auto stand, I saw a beautiful cream-colored dog. He didn’t look like a stray, but he seemed to be dying. He was lying in the middle of this crowd, and could barely keep his eyes open. I kept staring at him. He didn't stare back. I sat down. He didn’t move. I asked him, my voice shaking, “Enna da achu?” (What happened?). There was no reaction. I went to my usual vada-pav place, got an extra pav, and immediately went back. By then, a small crowd had gathered around us. I was on the verge of tears when I offered him the pav and he didn’t take it up. So I nudged it closer and touched his nose.
He woke up with a start.
Apparently, he was sleeping. He didn’t like waking up, and he definitely wasn’t hungry. I tried to walk away as quickly as possible (only the 7-year old me would run).
Apparently, he was sleeping. He didn’t like waking up, and he definitely wasn’t hungry. I tried to walk away as quickly as possible (only the 7-year old me would run).