Nerve Endings Firing Away

Christmas always reminds everyone of snow, mistletoe, eggnog, bright lights, jingle bells, and of course Santa Claus. But strangely I have always associated Christmas with Shiny’s birthday. Nope, she is not the dashes of the S-dashes fame but is my bitch; err; female dog back in India. Incidentally this is her tenth birthday and her silent presence is always missed at this time of the year.

We brought her home all of 2 months old, months just before my tenth boards. She has led a rather regal life so far, lounging on my mom’s precious divan and conveniently neglecting her square mattress in my grandmom’s room. A pure-breed Doberman, she has a laminated pedigree certificate more impressive than my withered torn-at-the-edges birth certificate. Her family tree listings on that piece of paper may probably outnumber the number of ancestors that I even would care to remember.

I was always envious of her relaxed and luxurious life whenever I was running around frazzled trying to study for my exams or trying to answer dad’s evergreen question of “what is your contribution to this house?” I have learnt it the hard way that sleep usually is the answer he is looking for. Anyways, Shiny somehow is never asked that question.

Jealousies apart, she is the most lovable dog you could ever find. We were initially disturbed at her attitude with trying to befriend every stranger coming into our house but the day she nearly gave a heart attack to an unsuspecting salesman, our fears of nurturing a sheep in a wolf’s clothing were unfounded.

She is the closest a dog can get to being likened to Bal Thackrey, Narendra Modi or Ashok Singhal. By some weird sense of logic, she relishes scaring the daylights of Muslims. This is no coincidence. We have tested this phenomenon over the past ten years. Be it a stinking rich industrialist or a lowly contractor or a very close friend of mine, she spares no one. She reserves the tactic of slowly ambling over to the person and then grabbing a leg in one swift move for others but for these poor muslim visitors, she goes on an all-out attack right from the moment the doorbell rings.

The palpable anger in her eyes and ominous barks is evident. Many of my (muslim) friends have scaled our window grills to the top rungs, tempting my mom to hand them a broom to clear the cobwebs in otherwise unreachable crevices. I simply cannot fathom the reason for such a skewed behavior. Maybe a dog psychiatrist can help us out.

I hope I am not painting a totally wrong picture. Technically, she is the quietest canine around and like a typical dog requires her daily morning petting and a space to hide when the crackers go off during Diwali. She has been the perfect foil to our other dogs Elsa and Maximus (Max) who often lie at the other end of the spectrum. I can relate umpteen tales dog-tales but then this moment belongs to Shiny, who has brought tons of joy and happiness in our lives over the past ten years. I wish her a peaceful rest of the life.

Happy Birthday, Shiny!