7 pm, 21st August 2020: Anubha and I were out on a walk, masks and all, in an attempt to give our necks a rest, and feet, a feeling of the earth. A detour: we were out of curry leaves (கறிவேப்பிலை) and decided to get a sprig from the friendly neighbourhood tree. On the way back, our lives changed.
A small puppy, later assessed to be all of 1.4 kilograms, was hobbling along noiselessly by the side of the road. In the place of a tail was only a wide open, bloody gash. His hind legs were weak, almost chopstick-like, and as I picked up the puppy, he didn't squirm. Perhaps he was relieved that he no longer had to carry his own weight as he endured extreme pain.
The next few minutes were strange. A lady appeared who said she'd removed maggots from his tail and from the tail of one of his litter-mates. Another puppy in the litter was fighting to survive. She recognized us for the dog-novices that we were, and stated that the puppy needed to see a vet.
A young girl entered the scene, iPhone in hand, talking to her friend - "I found him! Someone is carrying him." Righteously, she took the puppy from my hands and said she was going to return him to his mother. At that moment, I felt like a dog-thief. She pressed the puppy against her chest, and in the process, his wound rubbed against the fabric of her dress. He yelped! She was shocked: she didn't know he was hurt.
"Will you take him to the vet?" Anubha asked her.
She looked upset. "I didn't know he was hurt."
"Well, we're taking him." The puppy was returned to my arms. As we walked away from the place, one thing lingered in my brain: a cute epithet in the voice of the lady who had nursed him - "मेरा कद्दू" (My Pumpkin).
On the way back, Anubha and I discussed if we were ready. Ready to become dog-parents. The answer was pretty clear in our heads: we probably weren't, but we knew that it was going to happen anyway.
For some strange reason, it felt like he trusted us. Perhaps he had been fortunate to meet only kind humans in the two months he had spent in this world. Another aunty met us on the way back home; I had cradled the puppy in my arms like a newborn baby.
She was an ardent pet-lover, animal-rescuer and parent of two dogs and one human. She told us that the puppy's wound needed to be cleaned with Betadine and that he needed to be fed with Cerelac and dahi.
When we reached home, we gave him a freshly laundered mat, and fed him in a yellow plastic box. He lapped everything up hungrily. And then tired, he fell asleep.
The next day, he would go to the vet. And as he slept, we gave him his name. Say hello to मिस्टर कद्दू.
[Photo Credits: Neha Sinha]
