An ode to my little one.

19.01.2017 – The day that changed my life.

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.” —Roger Caras

Staying true to this quote, here is a recollection of my experience with my four legged man. This occurred on a bright sunny day when we were all geared to relocate to our home. Living in the suburbs, we had finally saved up on enough money to move into a brand new home.

The packers and movers had just come by and were wrapping up all our belongings carefully in the bubble wrap. Our little man, Shabby was tied up in our balcony as he had always had the itch to run out if the doors were left open. To tell you a little about him, he is anything, but shabby. Spotless and white as a bright fluffy cloud on a bright summer’s day. Thus, ironically he was named.

As we were packing, he sat out in the balcony. His leash being long enough, Allowed him to climb onto the window sill. There he sat, peering through the railed windows. He had been restless for the past week as he was clearly agitated about us packing our things. The one thing he knew well off, was packing meant we were leaving him behind for a day or two with a care-taker he didn’t like. But, this time it was different. We had packed just too much, for his little mind to comprehend.

As he looked in, he kept staring at my mother who back then was running around like a headless chicken, trying to get the work done and coordinate with the packers. My weakness for this champ kept making me go out to the balcony and check on him. As I tried compensating for what was happening by petting him, I realized he was visibly upset with what was going on.

On my third or fourth visit into checking on him, I began to notice something. The little one who was a little earthquake on wheels began to look distant and rather sad. Every time I called him, he barely looked up. I began to get worried. I went back into the house to dig up on a few treats, to try lighten his mood.

When I got back, I was shocked. Words couldn’t begin to explain what I felt when I saw him. There he was, not caring about the treats I had brought him. All he did was look into my eyes as tears kept rolling down. Up until then, I had no clue that dogs could even do that. Perplexed, I hugged him.

All he did was put his head on my shoulder and cry. Not the way humans did, of course. But I could see the tears roll down and a sort of sadness I had never seen in his eyes. I ran to my mother to try understand what was happening. She just stood there. Shocked at what she was seeing.

This was the time we understood though we call them mute, he bonded and conveyed a message beyond a million words. Shabby, my then 4-year-old son, was a rescued dog. He adopted us when he was just a few months old. In my little head trying to comprehend his actions, mother and I think he thought we were going to abandon him, much like he was in his childhood.

Understanding the crux of the episode, my mother asked me to take him first to the new house. We asked my cousin to bring his car in and drive us to our home. There we were, at our new place with him busy marking his new territories – happier than ever.

He knew he will never ever again be left alone. He had finally begun to trust, that humans meant more than pain to him. He had found his home.

He is now 6 years old, happy and loving as always. He had finally learned he meant more than the world to us.

It is funny how we always think we adopt these little ones, but many times it is them who adopt us and liberate us with their love and wet little noses.

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