The long SMS from our daughter was heavy with import. I have brought home a days-old puppy who was struggling on the pavement before my friend's home, it read. His siblings have all lost the battle; I am going to look after him and save him, she ended determinedly.
The fellow was so little - barely the size of a hand - that, seeing him as a covered bundle in one corner of the room, a flatmate asked if our daughter had adopted one of the pigeons from the balcony outside. Thus did Master Pigeon come to be, soon to be known by the shorter, easier-off-the-tongue Pidgie.
Then followed many visits to the vet, special food to counter his severely malnourished condition and the usual sequence of inoculations, all of which I knew was blowing a hole in our daughter's meagre student budget. An easy sucker when it came to dogs, I could do little else than offer to pay half the cost.
Within days and weeks, the fellow perked up and became an over-lively spirit around the flat, lacking in coordination, not knowing when to stop so as not to dash against the step-up to the kitchen and then lie stunned for a while. An endearing early image sent over mobile phone was of him asleep with his head and part of his body snuggled in the sports shoe of our son (from day one, Pidgie had a thing about shoes). My role over the phone was to sympathise and counsel patience when Pidgie proved slow to potty-train, and of course remit cash every time a hint was dropped.
The first crisis came when Delhi University's year-end vacation loomed; then our daughter and all her flatmates would go home for close to a month. Still under three months, would he be able to take two journeys, up and down, in airplane cargo holds? Besides, the wife, always the one more practical, was wary of bringing Pidgie over since then there would be a clear danger of him being left behind in our small flat. Seeing through one dog in a lifetime was enough, she declared, recalling the unforgettable Coco, who ran our lives for more than a decade. Eventually, deliverance came from a flatmate who changed plans and spent a good part of her vacation in Delhi, and then the final week in a reliable home for dogs that left our daughter and me poorer by close to five figures. It all seemed worth it when, during one of our phone calls, the lady in charge affirmed, "Kha raha, khel raha, kood bhi raha" (Yes, he is feeding well, playing, even jumping around).
When pet and daughter were reunited after the vacation, act one in Pidgie's life seemed to have gone off very well, considering it would have ended if he had remained on the pavement for a couple of days more. All seemed OK as he was up to the usual pranks. When no one was around, he was climbing into our daughter's bed. Then one day, he dragged one of her blankets to the floor, firmly planted himself on it and refused to budge. And finally - this is not funny - chewed up three keys and almost destroyed her costly cell phone.
Then the other day, the usual cheery tone in our daughter's voice was gone as she narrated what the vet had said. Pidgie's heart at times beat so fast it almost seemed ready to burst his rib cage. There were also spasms and erratic heartbeats. Big dogs, when young, displayed these symptoms but outgrew them with age, said the vet. But his head and paws did not indicate he would grow up to be big in size. In which case, he could have a congenital heart defect. We will get an opinion from another vet, she said and rang off. I was stunned.
I recalled how Coco came into our lives. I was upset the way our children, when they were very young, got scared by dogs, even friendly pets. It was an embarrassment when we visited a home with one. I thought I would bring home a puppy to cure their fear. Also, by taking care of the puppy, they would learn to take care of others - I ended up doing most of the caring. Twenty years on, my upbringing plan seems to have worked, but not to script.
Disclaimer: These are personal views of the writer. They do not necessarily reflect the opinion of www.business-standard.com or the Business Standard newspaper
