Exactly 365 days ago, Anubha and I were on a one-off walk through the society on a rainy evening when we spotted a wounded white puppy bravely tippy-tapping down the road. The moment I wrapped my fingers around his supple velvety body and picked him up, our lives forever changed.
When I look back at Kaddu's first year in the world, the words that come to mind include cute, foolish, hungry, crazy, greedy, loving and No (kindly note the capitalized 'n'). One year with a puppy has pushed our thinking and behaviour onto a different plane, but at a practical level, we have mostly learned to effectively communicate the N-word.
A friend asked me if this was a strategic move to growth-hack parenting - "Is Kaddu an experimental child, so that you can learn the ropes?" I laughed his question off at the time, but I can understand where it came from. Loving a puppy has helped me realize the potential I have to fully love a helpless toddler for whom I am everything.
"We didn't save the dog, he saved us" is a cliché I've come to accept. He saved us from continuing our lives as limited hoomans who don't know an animal's love. The dog, in my opinion, is the perfect gateway animal: they open you up to a wild new world out there.
A world beginning with dogs (Haseena, Millie, Cyrus, Olly, Zoe, Danaerys, Kaalu, Candy and Crush, Foxy, Yoda, Yoga, are all furry faces I can recognize), but extending into cats, squirrels, birds, cows, pigs and horses. Some of these animals scare Kaddu, some are his friends, and others (like the horse) leave him flummoxed. By living closely with him, I sometimes get a glimpse of what goes on inside his cute, soft, furry head: I perceive those noisy red cars, giant green buses, sly cats who climb high branches, big black bullies with sharp teeth, and smelly pee and poo of various friends and animals.
Kaddu has also helped me explore the society in a way a way I'd never imagined. In the first few months of taking baby Kaddu for walks, I walked through more lanes, bushes, parks and buildings than I had in the two years prior. In certain ways, he has made us care a little more for the society too. Earlier, you could chop down a few trees overnight and have them cleared before morning, and I'd never have noticed their removal. But now, even if someone moved that green dustbin by the park by a few feet, I'd know something is amiss.
We have also made new friends through him. In fact, almost everyone we meet in the society now are through Kaddu (he is way more friendly than us), and we have realized that doggie-playdates act as excellent social glue. We pet-parents (not owners, how dare you) share stories of our little ones, their nakhre, strange things like to eat or drink, places we last took them to... Pet-parenting is like a crazy invite-only subterranean cult, and if I wasn't in it, I wouldn't have believed such a thing exists.
So we've talked about how Kaddu helped us get to know other animals, our society, and other people. But most importantly, he has helped us get to know ourselves get up on time without an alarm. He's up at six, his snout hovering over my face, ready to lick, and woof "gooby morning!"
