A Dog Owner’s Nightmare
‘Oh you poor industrious soul’-exclaimed God, overlooking the tiny frame withered by work and lack of food, of a starved being who upon his death, had reached the pearly gates. ‘Hmmm… let me see, you are destined to be a dog in your next incarnation…let me send you to a place where you can rest in Peace’
KADDABOOM…a flash of lightning struck the sky and lord’s wish was carried. Rusty was born. That could be one of the many possible explanations why Rusty is such a voracious lazy lout. We have long prayed that something would shove in some intelligence in his otherwise thick empty skull, however our prayers have not been answered.
Rusty was chosen from a whelp of sleeping puppies, which lay burying their tiny heads on one another, by a careful process of selective elimination. Well, not exactly, to be fair. He ran up to us in frenzy as if we were a long separated family (and performed such a lovable-rubbing against pants-happy dance that we could not resist adopting him).
As destiny would have it we brought him to his new home. His owners claimed that he was a genuine Labrador, but to our critical stare, he stands somewhere between a Labrador and a sausage dog. Although, who cared about his impressive lineage and dog show champion Mom and Dad then, its now that we repent.
Back home we were met with mother’s arrogant gape –‘Do you promise to take care of him’…’Yes, Yes!!!’ we nodded affirmatively till our necks pained. Over the years, the promise has turned ambiguous; Rusty has been adopted in the care of the lady of the household.
If you look at rusty (why on the earth would you do that!) you will find a food glutton, lean dog who looks as starved as a survivor of the Nazi camp. He’s ginger yellow in colour and has a short stumpy tail (that’s another story!) .He is a PECULIAR dog, and one of his many peculiarities is that he doesn’t bark! Well, I admit that barking upsets the peace of the household and many owners wish that their dogs were dumb. But hey! Come on, Dogs must bark! And rusty doesn’t perhaps he has taken energy conservation too seriously.
Now this is very embarrassing. Visitors react by sniggering and some put on solemn expressions like (‘Oh! That’s reaaally sad’) Some drop their jaws dead! ‘Uh! Ahm…He is very friendly you see…” we try explaining with a shrug, and rusty unaware of his insult wags his tail vigorously. Possessing a perfectly harmless dog has its own disadvantages.
Another oddity is that he’s a bottomless pit. No matter how much he eats, he’ll always transfix his soulful hazel eyes on you for the want of more food. Sometimes we yield to his piteous expressions and sometimes he gets whacked for it.
Rusty has the reputation for being the most untrained dog in the neighborhood, and for good reasons. All our efforts to teach him presentable tricks have grossly failed. When he’s told to fetch something he’ll either chew it to bits himself or drop it down with disgust as if wondering-‘Look either you have it or give it to me, this throwing and fetching makes no sense!’ He’ll sit, stand or run at his own impulse irrespective of how hard you try. Such training sessions end with the trainer all red, face bloated with effort and exhausted while rusty is most likely to be found foolishly scratching himself in a corner.
Sometimes Rusty develops a delusion that he’s Beethoven the great musician. So in the mid of the night when the great maestro presents a sonnet, his owners can only helplessly toss in their beds.
And Rusty also suffers from the IPFO (read I’m preparing for Olympics) syndrome. His hundred miles per hour trot leaves us breathless, rusty on reaching home collapses in his kennel and is immediately fast asleep while his less fortunate owners are left to drag themselves in and spend the rest of the day nursing their aching legs.
Rusty’s rapport with other dogs of the community is also quite narratable, while he and the next door pretty thing Julie share happy barks and long squeals, the right hand neighbour Tuffy and his hysterical barks are less favored. Other dogs on the street are virtually non-existent for Rusty; he scales the road pulling at his chain quite unaware of the interest he arouses in the 4-legged passers-by.
Rusty is by all means a dog owner’s nightmare. He shreds the newspaper into pieces, chooses to stealthily decorate the terrace at night, and does nothing that can be placed near guarding but something in me tells me that We can never exchange this sleepy, lazy, bonny doggy for the most placid, well behaved (and rounder, fuller) dog in the world.
‘Oh you poor industrious soul’-exclaimed God, overlooking the tiny frame withered by work and lack of food, of a starved being who upon his death, had reached the pearly gates. ‘Hmmm… let me see, you are destined to be a dog in your next incarnation…let me send you to a place where you can rest in Peace’
KADDABOOM…a flash of lightning struck the sky and lord’s wish was carried. Rusty was born. That could be one of the many possible explanations why Rusty is such a voracious lazy lout. We have long prayed that something would shove in some intelligence in his otherwise thick empty skull, however our prayers have not been answered.
Rusty was chosen from a whelp of sleeping puppies, which lay burying their tiny heads on one another, by a careful process of selective elimination. Well, not exactly, to be fair. He ran up to us in frenzy as if we were a long separated family (and performed such a lovable-rubbing against pants-happy dance that we could not resist adopting him).
As destiny would have it we brought him to his new home. His owners claimed that he was a genuine Labrador, but to our critical stare, he stands somewhere between a Labrador and a sausage dog. Although, who cared about his impressive lineage and dog show champion Mom and Dad then, its now that we repent.
Back home we were met with mother’s arrogant gape –‘Do you promise to take care of him’…’Yes, Yes!!!’ we nodded affirmatively till our necks pained. Over the years, the promise has turned ambiguous; Rusty has been adopted in the care of the lady of the household.
If you look at rusty (why on the earth would you do that!) you will find a food glutton, lean dog who looks as starved as a survivor of the Nazi camp. He’s ginger yellow in colour and has a short stumpy tail (that’s another story!) .He is a PECULIAR dog, and one of his many peculiarities is that he doesn’t bark! Well, I admit that barking upsets the peace of the household and many owners wish that their dogs were dumb. But hey! Come on, Dogs must bark! And rusty doesn’t perhaps he has taken energy conservation too seriously.
Now this is very embarrassing. Visitors react by sniggering and some put on solemn expressions like (‘Oh! That’s reaaally sad’) Some drop their jaws dead! ‘Uh! Ahm…He is very friendly you see…” we try explaining with a shrug, and rusty unaware of his insult wags his tail vigorously. Possessing a perfectly harmless dog has its own disadvantages.
Another oddity is that he’s a bottomless pit. No matter how much he eats, he’ll always transfix his soulful hazel eyes on you for the want of more food. Sometimes we yield to his piteous expressions and sometimes he gets whacked for it.
Rusty has the reputation for being the most untrained dog in the neighborhood, and for good reasons. All our efforts to teach him presentable tricks have grossly failed. When he’s told to fetch something he’ll either chew it to bits himself or drop it down with disgust as if wondering-‘Look either you have it or give it to me, this throwing and fetching makes no sense!’ He’ll sit, stand or run at his own impulse irrespective of how hard you try. Such training sessions end with the trainer all red, face bloated with effort and exhausted while rusty is most likely to be found foolishly scratching himself in a corner.
Sometimes Rusty develops a delusion that he’s Beethoven the great musician. So in the mid of the night when the great maestro presents a sonnet, his owners can only helplessly toss in their beds.
And Rusty also suffers from the IPFO (read I’m preparing for Olympics) syndrome. His hundred miles per hour trot leaves us breathless, rusty on reaching home collapses in his kennel and is immediately fast asleep while his less fortunate owners are left to drag themselves in and spend the rest of the day nursing their aching legs.
Rusty’s rapport with other dogs of the community is also quite narratable, while he and the next door pretty thing Julie share happy barks and long squeals, the right hand neighbour Tuffy and his hysterical barks are less favored. Other dogs on the street are virtually non-existent for Rusty; he scales the road pulling at his chain quite unaware of the interest he arouses in the 4-legged passers-by.
Rusty is by all means a dog owner’s nightmare. He shreds the newspaper into pieces, chooses to stealthily decorate the terrace at night, and does nothing that can be placed near guarding but something in me tells me that We can never exchange this sleepy, lazy, bonny doggy for the most placid, well behaved (and rounder, fuller) dog in the world.
1 comment:
Ginger rocks!!
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