Nostalgia

Today I watched the trailer of Marley & Me for the first time. And all at once I had nostalgia hit me like a brick wall. I adored the book and though I know the movie will probably have some creative differences, I already love the look of it, particularly the bit that has Marley leap out the front window of the car and trot along side. Is it something that all dogs have programmed into their genetic coding? I hope the movie doesn't take a lifetime to release here!

Cold water

Lyka was a girl. So while she didn't feel the need to mark her territory everywhere, when heat season came around we had to watch her like a hawk and Dad would arm himself with a stick to ward off all potential suitors when taking her for walks. It usually never got very bad and we would make it through without any mishap. But we experienced a new and annoying phenomenon when we moved into our old house.

I was in class 10 at the time and it was exam season. My room on the first floor faced the road and I was in the habit of waking up at insane hours to study. So one night, soon after I'd gone to sleep, I heard loud barking right outside my window. When I woke up to find out what was causing the din, there was a line up of the male dogs of the colony outside our front door, yowling away. After some yelling at them, they went away only to return after a couple of hours. Clearly my method wasn't working. So I decided to throw cold water on their plans. Literally.

I got a mug full of water and poured it out the window on their heads. They didn't know what hit them and ran away. But they weren't to be deterred. Back for attempt three, I again gave them a free bath. And like this it continued for the rest of the night. Lyka had of course slept through the whole thing, blissfully unaware that I was muttering curses the next morning being bleary eyed and irritated at the lack of sleep.

The next night I was prepared. I placed a whole bucket of water next to my window and this time, drenched the canines right through. That seemed to teach them a lesson and they didn't return the next few days. But this little routine was to be repeated every time and by the time I left for college, I had perfected it down to an art.

Time heals?

It's been a year. And when I go home I still expect Lyka to stand outside the elevator door, looking expectantly at the new arrival to the house. And call me crazy, but there have been several instances when I've just felt her presence, particularly near our dining table :) We still talk about her and tell stories, which I'm sure people are sick of hearing about. But she was our resident entertainer. So I guess that's a hazard outsiders just have to live with. I was recently cleaning out my camera memory card and came across a whole bunch of pictures I'd forgotten I had from my last week at home before I moved to Bombay. And they mostly revolve around Lyka. I've stored them away to look at them another time. I'm sure wherever she is now, she's chasing chickens and wondering what on earth is taking us so long to come to her.

Memory Lane

It's been several months since I wrote on this blog. I've been caught up with the mundanities of my life and found more expression for my daily trials. But today I was flipping through some old pictures of home and family and Lyka features in so many of them. And I just stopped and realized that it's been nearly 9 months since she passed. A mini-lifetime has passed in between with many changes, but thinking about her at least once a day hasn't changed.

Strangely enough, the time I remember her everyday is on the way to work, when I pass some huts on the road that have goats tied up in front. I saw a man giving an animal a good scrub down and the goat was very patiently standing there waiting for the ordeal to be completed, probably thinking that the indignity of being bathed rivalled the ultimate fate that lays in wait for it. It only reminded me of Lyka and the fuss she would create everytime we gave her a bath which usually resulted in more water drenching us than soaking through her coat.

My parents and I have not had the courage still to visit her. I don't think we'll ever be able to. It's still too difficult. We prefer remeniscing over drinks and laughing over her antics. A lot of family is visiting this summer and I think it will be the first time they're coming over without Lyka in the house. A lot of new chapters have begun this past year but I don't think this is one is closed.

Fur Coat

For anyone who's ever had a lab, you know that while their fur is not very long, it is abundant and labs can shed enough fur to fill 3 pillowcases in your house. And Lyka was no exception. On the flipside you would also imagine that a canine with this thick an outer coat would be rather immune to an Indian winter and would look forward to crisp days. While Lyka would bound about with renewed energy during winter days, as a puppy she would shiver at night in Agartala winters. At first I thought covering her with a sheet would solve the problem and I would religiously tuck her in at night. Come morning, the blanket would have been thrown off in some corner of the house, having had little effect on Lyka. Then I decided I would fashion a sweater for her - I found a t-shirt that I had grown out of and painstakingly put Lyka's legs throught the arm holes and had her walking around in the dog-sized sweater for a while. I don't think she appreciated it much because she found a way to get it off after a few days. Then I decided she would fend for herself since I had run out of ideas.

Lyka was possibly the only dog in the world who would insist on spending hours out in the sun, even on the hottest and most humid of Madras summer days. I think this was her method of cleansing herself. She was also possibly the only fur coat possessing person who would feel cold if you left the a/c in your room on for too long. I know several dog owners give their canines haircuts in summer so the dog won't wilt in the heat, but I have a feeling that Lyka would have missed her coat even when she sat outside basking in the sunlight.

Orange Peels and Marmalade

Lyka's first winter with us was soon after she came home and at this time we still hadn't figured out what foods she would and would not eat. So in the course of our experiments, I sat down to peel an orange one day. Lyka being curious about this new edible came close to smell and categorize the fruit into "friend/foe." Now we all know how the orange peel has a habit of squirting and this usually hits someone's eyes with accuracy. In this case Lyka got caught squarely and I can only describe her reaction as complete shock that something round and generally characterless could sting so much. She backed away and watched me warily, thinking this was some form of punishment I had devised. That day forward, you couldn't bring Lyka within 3 feet of an orange and if you brought the peel anywhere near her face she would snarl (gently) and let you know orange were no joke to her.

9 lives

Lyka loved car rides - she would happily place herself strategically on the back seat so no one else could sit and watch the traffic and the world go by. She would also proceed to drool and shed fur all over the backseat which prompted us to stow a Lyka sheet in the boot of the car on a permanent basis. You'd always know if Lyka had been in the car. The window would be marked with her nose having been pressed against it and if you were wearing dark coloured clothes, you could be assured that you would walk away covered in fur.

When we first moved to Madras and moved into our apartment, we would have Lyka be dropped off at my grandmom's house in the morning so she could wander about the garden and I would pick her up on my way home from school. This was to let her get some sun and generally get acclamatized to living in the city.

On one fateful afternoon, Lyka had been loaded into the front seat by the driver and I was sitting in the back, with her leash in my hand. Lyka liked the window down so her ears would fly in the wind. We were half way home when we crossed a bullock cart (the kind that uses emaciated bulls and occuppies the whole road moving at a glacial speed). Lyka never liked cows - it's that whole dog in the manger thing I think. She started barking wildly at the poor bovine and got extremely agitated. I was trying to get her to calm down when all of a sudden she leapt out the car window and landed on the road. I have no idea what she was attempting to do - perhaps being on the same eye level with the bull emboldened her. The driver screeched to a halt, having lost a few hours of his life I'm sure, and I nearly had a heart attack. Now remember Lyka's leash was still in my hand. If we hadn't been moving at 2 kmph trying to overtake the cart, Lyka could have very easily snapped her neck. Having recovered from my shock, I got out, seething at the silly dog's idiocy, bundled up the canine and put her in the backseat with me, her collar firmly in hand and all windows rolled up. Lyka of course thought it was a brilliant change from the monotony of being driven home and seemed quite happy about the events that had passed.

We learned our lesson and after that day the car windows would be rolled down only enough to let Lyka smell the world. Fresh breeze could wait till we got home.

Resolutions

I recently saw ads on the TV for adoption of Indian dogs - the mixed breeds who're saved from the streets. While it's too soon to contemplate getting a dog, now or ever, I've decided if I ever get another dog it shall be from the pound.