More pumbaastic updates

It’s been long since I wrote this and this about him. It’s time for some more.

  • In another 3 days, he will turn two! Oh my god. How time flies. Beeg boy he is now; only, he doesn’t know that, and refuses to even want to know ;).
  • He had an attack of gluten allergy recently. The last time I was home, no matter how lightly you pat him, anywhere on his body, he’d be extremely ticklish. Took him to the vet who said it could be a gluten problem. Asked us to avoid giving him his favourite chappatis and cake and generally all things sweet. Poor baby. :(
  • Whenever my brother raises his voice (generally in frustration at technology issues), Pumbaa runs to pacify him, thinking his presence can make everything alright. And well, works like a charm, every single time :)
  • Whenever I video chat with my folks back home, I call out to Pumbaa, with a few words ONLY I use on him. He comes, peers at the screen for a while, registers my face…and then goes mad, wags his tail furiously…and eventually jump on my brother or Amma, whoever is sitting there :D
  • The moment he realises he may have done something wrong, he bolts and hides under the sofa :D He thinks we can’t reach him there. Happened twice last time i was home, and how much I laughed! We were all sitting around the dining table in the evening, having tea. Pumbaa was also lying beside my chair. Amma slowly stepped around him, and in the process knocked over her cup of tea. And I loudly asked “What are you doing Amma?”…and Pumbaa bolted. ROFL. Took a lot of convincing before he believed he was not at fault for the spilt tea. A day later, I was playing tug with him, and as I let go of his toy, he jumped towards me with the toy dangling from his mouth. It came and hit me on my nose, right where I’d pierced it. And I went “Ouch”. In fact, I did not make a sound. I just stiffened, and clutched my face. And he bolted. ROFL. Despite the pain and the million stars dancing around, I had to get down on all fours to convince him he didn’t do anything, and was still my sweetheart :)
  • He gets two boiled eggs every morning, between 10 and 12. Wherever he is — terrace, near the gate, in my brother’s room, in a slumber — at the sound of shell cracking, he’s at Amma’s side! :-o
  • Whenever Amma goes out, he goes into depression. From the time she dresses up till she actually leaves, he’s this nicechild — all love, convincing her that it’s absolutely safe to take him along too. And when she actually does leave, he cocks his head to the right and looks at her, asking “How can you!?” Awww moment it always is. And no matter what treat she leaves him with, he refuses to eat till she’s back. And when she returns, he grabs the abandoned treat, goes to his ‘snack bar’ and munches on it, as if to say “Oh!I’m busy, and don’t really care you’re back, you abandoner!” :D
  • Amma made him an excellent bed, got him accustomed to using a pillow and everything. It lasted for 2 days. He prefers the settee in the living room :D Being the sensible one he is, he knows NOT to get on it during the day. And when it is bed time, dad brings out his bed sheet and covers the settee with it. All the while Pumbaa keeps trotting from one side to the other, impatient to get on it. It is only when dad says “OK” that he gets on it, though. Darling.
  • He hates ticks being plucked out of him. but the moment we take on out, he gets all restless, and has to be allowed to peer/sniff at it before we kill it :D Such a funny sight it is!
  • He loves the fisher woman that comes to our place. All the while that she’s at work cutting and cleaning the fish Amma buys, he sits by her side, giving her company. He does NOT lick at the fish. He has no plans to run off with a piece. No hidden agendas. Just wants to patiently sit by her side, making sure she doesn’t feel lonely. She loves him too, which is a good thing. Calls him her “muthu” (pearl/something precious) there. Cuteness overload. :)
  • Whatever we buy — stationery, clothes, all non-vegetables — have to be given to him to sniff, and approve for use :D It’s funny how he religiously sniffs every single item, then walks away without claiming any of the items. Chakkara. :)
  • Dad buys a kilo of beef every Sunday, then chops it up and divides it into 6 equal packs and stores in the freezer; taking one measure out everyday for his meal. Every Sunday, as Dad chops the beef, Pumbaa sits beside him patiently, drooling a sea around him, catching with precision the few pieces dad tosses at him :) Want to learn the art of patience? Be with Pumbaa during Sunday beef session :D

What hasn’t changed

  • The ass sniffing ;)
  • Understanding every.single.thing we say about/to him :)
  • Loving us unconditionally; being loved right back, equally unconditionally :)
  • Being a blessing :)
  • Being a joy to be around :)
  • Being the light of our lives :)
  • Being Pumbaastic :)

That’s all for now. Again, for certain people who “turn to mush seeing his pics”, here are some of the more recent pics on his very own page. Scroll right down!

Some more Pumbaastic updates :)

It’s been long since I wrote this about him; and boy, has he changed!

  • He is now a year and 5 months, almost; a grown(p)up ;) but he refuses to acknowledge that. He still is (and looks like he always will be) a kid. :P
  • He devours bananas. He takes—one at a time—from a bunch that’s kept on the fruit tray below the dining table, goes to his snack bar, peels it, eats it and leaves the skin there. The first time I saw this happening, I gaped. :-o
  • He eats dates, most carefully. He devours it like it’s the last morsel of food he’ll ever get—and then he slowly lowers his head and rolls out his tongue, from which will roll out a spotless date seed. :-o
  • He is no longer the aviyal-loving, curd-loving, give-me-anything-home-made-and-I-shall-eat sweet little thing. He has preferences. :-/
  • There are days when he just decides he does not want to eat on his own. So he’ll look at his plate, walk around, look at one of us, walk around…generally letting us know “I’m hungry, but I am not going to eat by myself”. When one of us (mostly mom or me, no one else falls for these :roll:) take it bit by bit and feed him like feeding a little kid, he finishes every morsel of food on his plate :roll:
  • When in one of his moods, he hunts out every single piece of chicken/beef/fish from the rice-meat mix we give him and leaves every grain of rice there! :P
  • He does NOT appreciate Pedigree or anything similar for more than a day (or two, max!) at a time. :-|
  • The ONE thing he cannot stay away from, and drools till there’s a sea around him, is “the cake”! He cannot even control himself from jumping up and biting it right off your hand (without hurting you of course!) It always amazes us, his greed for cakes :D
  • He understands every.single.thing we say about/to him. How he responds/obeys, is totally dependent on his mood though :roll:
  • The one command he obeys unconditionally is “Stay”. For every other command, he obeys or ignores based on the presence or absence of food in the commander’s hands :D
  • When we ask him where his “toy” is, he scrambles all over the house like mad till he finds it. After that, he expects us to play with him till he tires out. And if we try to ignore him, he catches hold of our legs (one paw across a leg, holding it close to his head so we wont move!) and makes sure we say “OK, let’s play!” :)
  • Every time he comes with the toy to play, if we tell him “I have work, Pumbaa. I’ve to cook/eat/clean up. I’ll play with you after that”, he puts the toy down and lies beside it, following our every move. The moment that particular work is done, he comes to us with the toy, almost asking “You’re done now. Can we play?” :D
  • We have different names for his toys, and he identifies each one when we ask for a specific one by name! :D [Yes, I know some kids who can do that :D]
  • He is in love! With pretty little “Twinkle”, a Beagle that stays in our neighbourhood. Well, I’m in love with her too! But this is like serious love! The minute she reaches close to our gate, she starts pulling on her leash and makes sure there’s a stop at our gate. As for Pumbaa, whatever he is doing right then, he ditches it all, and bounds down the stairs. Then there’s much kissing and licking and pawing from two sides of a gate. It’s the cutest sight. Really. And when Twinkle is led away and looks back forlornly, her owners promise to bring her the next day, and she lets out one tiny woof and goes off. Replay happens next day evening :D
  • He gets extremely jealous if he sees any of us hugging/kissing someone other than him. Suraj hugs me, he jumps at Suraj. My brother hugs me, he jumps at my brother. My brother hugs my mother, he jumps at my brother. I hug my mother, he jumps at my mother ;) OK…looks like my mom and I are his alone!
  • There are times when Suraj leashes him to our living room door (for too much mischief), and he lies down there patiently. Till he sees that I’ve sat down beside Suraj on the couch. He can no longer sleep, but he would still lie there, watching us all the time. I would then slowly lean on to Suraj…and Pumbaa would invariably sit up straight and let out pathetic whines. And then Suraj would put his arm around me and hold me close—and Pumbaa would be on his feet, whining, barking, pulling at his leash and being generally pissed off till we both say “OK…we won’t touch”. He then becomes quiet, and sits, but not quite happily, till I go pet him. He then goes off to sleep till I sit near Suraj the next time :D
  • He thinks anyone except Amma is allowed to scold him. Amma, however, is his playmate. No matter what he does how, she is NOT supposed to scold. He sulks like mad if she does :D
  • He sniffs our backsides all the time :D I read somewhere that that’s how dogs collect data/information about people. Why he has to collect data on the same people every time they get up from their seats, beats me! There are times we have to stand pressed to the wall and say “No, Pumbaa. No!” and he gives us a forlorn look and backs off. Not for long, though. He has even learnt to do it discreetly. The embarrassment, however, is when he sniffs and then blows his nose loudly and forcefully, shaking his head, like he just inhaled some hydrogen sulphide! :D

That’s all for now. Waiting for him to finish off his 2-month vacation, to come back and give me fodder for more updates :D For certain people who “turn to mush seeing his pics”, here are some of the more recent pics on his very own page. Scroll right down ;)

Minuscule world, this blog world!

Yea, so we blog. We and post stories and fiction and memoirs and pictures and rants and leg-pullers and all kinds of stuff.

We make friends, and ‘sisters’ and ‘brothers’ and ‘soul mates’ and all kinds of relationships.

And there are times when you come across a blog through another’s, read through, like it and comment on it. And that person comes back and reads through, likes it and comments on yours.

And it’s all the normal bloggy stuff.

Until.

She (evidently a dog lover and still nursing memories of Goofy) shows pictures of your long lost pet to her husband. And, is in for a surprise when the husband, instead of noticing the pet that was intended to be noticed, notices the man standing by it and says (not verbatim) “Oh! I know him. This is xxxx who lived behind the Vanchiyoor Court (Trivandrum, Kerala). I’m sure.”

So she mails you and asks “Hey. I was showing pictures of Pumbaa to my husband when he looks at your dad and says he’s very familiar. Did he live in Vanchiyoor”? And so, a trail of mails goes to and forth till you realize you’re no longer just blog-friends, but relatives too!

And my dad knows not just her husband, but his brothers, the house they lived in, and even knew one of the brothers who was in the Income Tax!

This weekend, I realised Shail (Shail’s Nest) is my dad’s uncle’s brother-in-law’s wife’s first cousin’s wife! :D :D :D Yey! How much closer can we get?

Okie! In simpler terms, the brother-in-law mentioned above is just like my grandpa to me. So, that makes us pretty close relatives! :P :P :P

And to think I’ve seen the name “Shail” and noticed her comments in many of my blog friends’ comment sections since a loooooong time, but never bothered to link through and read it… and the week that we actually linked to one another, we realize we’re relatives.

It isn’t just a small world, it’s a rather minuscule one!

Blogging rocks! :)

Ricky: a friendly, loving, golden fur ball :)

“Whatever you do, don’t catch a dog by its tail”, said her dad, alarmed to see her grab the tail at first sight.

She was 8, her brother 10. They lived in a sprawling house, set in 2-and-a-half acres of trees, shrubs, a pond and what not. There were cows, cats, kids, the neighbour’s hen…  All that was missing was a dog.

It was the first time a dog was bought home, and she and her brother were thrilled. Yet, she was scared to go near it and pet it. So, she sat a distance away and after a while, had decided that the tail was at arm’s length…and very touchable ;) That’s when her dad had admonished her. Apparently, the head, scruff, back and tail are a dog’s dominating areas. “It’s where other dogs grab in fights. So, unless the dog’s well acquainted with you, you must not catch its tail.”

But well, as far as she could make out, the dog didn’t seem to care at all.

“What dog is this?” she asked. “It’s a Lab…Labrador Retriever. They are very friendly; especially with kids” said the cousin, more her big brother, winking at her. Their father agreed. He had had a Labrador Retriever too, long long back. Neetu: a beautiful, black girl. This one here was a golden. A 6-month-old ‘she’.

It seemed mighty happy, active and eager to please. The only reason she pulled her hand back vehemently was more out of the danger-tone in her dad’s voice than out of fear of the dog who turned around to look at her that moment. It wagged its thick strong tail fast and furiously, thumping it against her tiny legs. She jumped up, wailing “It’s so strong, it hurts!”. The dog lifted its eyebrows, tilted its head to the right and licked her across her face.

“Ewwww, gross!” she said, wiping her face on her petticoat. Her brother guffawed and her big brother, who’d brought the dog in, laughed aloud. Her dad laughed aloud too, and petted the dog. The dog seemed to think she liked it, for it licked her again. “Ewwwww. Stop it.” She screamed, and walked away. She turned around and saw the dog looking at her, apology brimming from its eyes. “You hurt the dog’s feelings”, mocked her big bro and she returned. There was real expressions of curiosity, doubt, wonder and affection on the dog’s face.

“What do we call it?, she asked her big brother.
Her. It’s a she. Let’s call her Ricky”.
“Ricky? Why? Isn’t that a male name?” “
Well, maybe, but that’s what her owner used to call her. If we call her something else now, we’ll confuse her, won’t we?” asked her big brother.

And that’s how Ricky became part of the family. Her big brother, though Ricky’s “owner/master”, kept shuttling between Guruvayur (where Ricky was bought to) and Trivandrum (their hometown). So, her brother and she donned the role of ‘caretakers’ of Ricky.

They groomed her, trained her, bathed her, petted her, played with her, took her for quick runs, gave her thorough exercise sessions and swam with her (Ricky was always the first to jump in whenever the three of them went to the pond). In return for all these, Ricky would always be with them, keeping them safe. In spite of being given a bed on the verandah, Ricky would ALWAYS sleep in their room, giving them company and a sense of security. Ricky seemed to know the 8-year-old girl was too scared to sleep alone in the room, till her brother was ready for bed. No matter where she curled up, Ricky would settle by her feet, making her feel safe :)

Though their dad loved dogs, he was a busy man, and couldn’t spend much time with Ricky. Ricky knew this, and seemed to accept and respect him the way he was. Ricky knew he was the master of the house, even if he wasn’t her master. And she always obeyed, at the slightest nod or grunt from him. ;)

The mother was forever in the kitchen, or cleaning the house. But she was Ricky’s chef, and Ricky loved her. Ricky would risk disobeying anyone, but the mother! Ricky seemed to know that she wasn’t spending too much time with Ricky because of other responsibilities. And Ricky respected that as well.

Ricky was fun…and the kids loved her! She loved them all too. But what Ricky loved the most there, was the pond.

What Ricky did the moment the leash was off
True to its breed, Ricky was always full of energy. Ready for a run, a walk, a jump, a dive – any time of day or night. Ricky was usually let off the leash only when the kids came back from school; or on holidays, since their mother was scared Ricky would run off (especially since she would generally  be in the kitchen or indoors, unable to keep tabs on a leash-less hyperactive dog). So, the moment the kids reached home, they’d quickly throw their bags on the table, get out of their school uniform and into their swim gear, have a quick bite and rush to free Ricky. By this short time span, Ricky would be going around in circles on the verandah, giving vent to all her pent up energy. She knew the kids would free her any moment. Initially, this was a challenge…and the kids almost got dragged along. Later on, they’d remove the leash and stand as far away from Ricky as possible. And what about Ricky? The moment the leash was off, Ricky would shoot out of the verandah like a bullet, and run like crazy around the house at least 5 times before making a beeline to the pond and diving a perfect dive! The kids would follow suit ;) It was only then that she would give herself up for a round of petting ;) Without change, Ricky was always the first in and the last out of the pond every time!

Ricky’s unusual friendship
Ricky had the most unusual friendship: with a frog! The first day she and her brother saw Ricky pawing at a small frog, they thought it was going to be Ricky’s dinner. They quickly scolded Ricky for being cruel, and shooed the frog away. Ricky watched them with forlorn eyes and an expression that seemed to ask “???” But when they spotted the frog every evening on the verandah, they knew there was more to the story. So, they spied…and what did they see? Each time the frog hopped over to Ricky, Ricky would fling it back to the steps and wait patiently, tail wagging furiously. The frog would, each time, patiently come hopping back, only to be thrown off again by Ricky. This was a daily affair: the frog would come hopping in by 7.00p.m. and would go away by about 7.30p.m.! Without fail, every day. Even on Sundays! :D

The day Ricky swallowed a lizard
One day, Ricky swallowed a lizard. And that too, right when the mother was petting her. She was horrified. Lizards were poisonous. What if Ricky fell ill? She scolded Ricky, wacked her, did all she could think off to make Ricky spit it out. Ricky didn’t budge. Concerned and anxious, she called her kids aside and told them about the lizard. The kids had an idea. “Let’s hide inside and growl. Ricky ALWAYS barks out loud when we growl.” The mother agreed. She took Ricky out on to the courtyard and tied her to a tree. And she went back into the house. The three of them went into the bedroom window nearest to where Ricky was tied up, and slowly growled. Ricky had ALWAYS responded to their growls by barking out loud and clear. But this time, Ricky was silent. She seemed to know this was a ruse. The threesome gave up the plan. By now, the mother was thoroughly worried. She broke off a twig from a nearby tree and gave Ricky a few whacks. After about 15 full minutes and more whacks, fed up of the drama, Ricky pawed at the ground and uncovered a small hole she’d dug: and there lay dead and buried, six centimetres under, the lizard the three of them thought was in Ricky’s mouth :D :D :D She’d probably spat it out an buried while we were busy growling from the dark room ;)

The day Ricky relocated
And after almost a year and half, it was time for her big brother to move off to Qatar, where their aunt lived with their uncle and two little brothers. The aunt had found him a job. Ricky, he decided, would now go to Trivandrum and give his mom, dad, sis and brother-in-law some good company. The kids were heartbroken. Their Ricky would no longer be their Ricky :( But well, masters decide what their dogs do. And so, one day, the kids bade goodbye to Ricky and sulked for many days. They had company. The little frog came looking for Ricky every day for almost a month, when it was finally convinced its huge, friendly, loving, golden fur ball had truly vanished. [Every time the family went to Trivandrum after that, there was a visit to the aunt’s house. Ricky always gave them the warmest possible welcome. And the best of her love, she always saved for the mother, her previous “chef”.]

The day Ricky bade goodbye
Ricky had a problem with her reproductive system. Her uterus was faulty; which led to an illness that Ricky lived with forever. But being a true Labrador, she was always the happy, spirited load of sweetness! While with the kids, she had always had ample exercise: something VERY crucial for the well being of all Retrievers, be it Labradors or Goldens. But when she went back to Trivandrum, she went into a household that LOVED all animals, but wasn’t very particular about their fitness. Ricky put on a lot of weight, her persistent illness got worse, and she bade us all a quick goodbye – much earlier than the average lifespan of a Labrador. The kids, both of them now older and more conscious of their behavior, went into the privacy of the room they shared and wept. The loss was incomparable to anything they had ever felt.

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Ricky with my Dad...from the set of pics we took during the Onam of 1997.

While the life chapters of Ricky came to an end, her spirit, her love and her memories lived on. It still does. And it always will. Ricky brought in a lot of love into our household. Never did we think that many years later, the mere mention of Ricky would bring back a flood of the sweetest of memories…and that ‘Ricky’ would always mean ‘love’ to the family she belonged to: to us. Every golden Labrador we see anywhere (on the road or on screen) is always Ricky; any Labrador we think of buying is always referred to as Ricky. Any credit for our love of dogs, and Labradors especially, goes to Ricky.

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Ricky with my Dad...another one from the set of pics we took during the Onam of 1997.

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Today, as I write this, I’m filled with a deep sorrow. Guess I (and the rest of my family) have not, and never will, get over Ricky. And I’ve decided – no dog that comes into our lives will ever be called Ricky again. The name represents only one dog. A vivacious, full-of-life, bubbly, spirited golden Labrador Retriever that lived with us in Guruvayur in 1993.

Ricky and a baby cat...sometime close to her goodbye...1999, maybe.

To Ricky. We all love you…and we all still miss you.

A dog’s purpose :)

)

wish she was i :)

This is not my literary creation. This is a mail I received a few minutes ago! The sweetest I’v EVER received, I must say. E.V.E.R ! I just could not resist the urge to put it up! All you dog lovers…enjoy this. And all you dog haters, enjoy this (and please, get a dog soon…at least get me one ;) my favourite breed’s picture is also included at the end of this post :D :D )! :)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

awww

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ‘I know why.’

awwwwwwwwwwwww

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, ‘People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?’ The six-year-old continued, ‘Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.’

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher, you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

look how adorably comfy this one is!

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp and play daily

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

my dream doggie :)

Never pretend to be something you’re not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

By far, my most image-heavy post :D :D I love dogs…and cant avoid putting in their pictures (its half past 12 and am damn sleepy! Else I’d have sourced more pictures :D )