The dogs that shaped each of our lives..
I had met Dickey's mother. Supposed to be a ferocious bitch, had bitten everybody it seemed.
Kusum phuphu was stopping me from touching her
She was sick. But loved when I patted n scratched her belly. Wagged her tail. Game a smile
Because she was fearsome, nobody was near her when she most needed it
Spent an hour.
She died after a week.
I told Dickey that I met her mother.. I don't know if it mattered to her,
As she might have thought us to be her birth family ...
May be ..
She was the first one who came to our place 30 years back.
Time flies.
I remember her.
She is history.
She was the playmate of my elder daughter. Same age.
Today a photograph of hers was discovered.
We have had many dogs since.
But we never believed Dicky would die.
The entire family was in shock the day she died.
And suddenly then, we knew that we have to withstand such shocks multiple times if we ever had dongs.
We do.
Generations go without knowing each other.
Memory is the only link between the stranger segments.
Life is a function of time, and even the memory becomes an irrelevant story after some time.
Preciously so, it is hard to figure out why we become so casual about the time allocated to us, NOW.
