Lucy
by Seema Sinha, India
Being a latch-key child, I could hardly afford a pet. My mother tried to make amends by buying me a bowl of fish. But I wanted something that would sniff me, lick me, and love me! I wanted a dog!
But that was ruled out as all of us left early in the morning and the house was locked and barred for the day. My little sister went to a day care centre. If only there were day care centres for little pups! I thought I’d have to grow up without a pup till the day one literally barged into my life.
In the absence of a pet, all stray animals in the neighbourhood had become my pets. And one day I found Scooby, my favourite she-dog, in great agony. She was giving birth! Though in no mood to accept assistance from us, she was not unduly aggressive either. And how I loved playing midwife to my birthing dog! The pups had to be cleaned, the mom fed. Scooby did not mind my attempts to feed her, but she would not allow even one of the pups to be touched. She would snarl and bare her teeth the moment we’d even look at her blind pups, no beauty in their present form. In any case she had taken the job of cleaning the pups upon herself. A lick here and a lick there, and the pups were as good as new.
We had opted for our favourites. The one with a white nose and black splotches on a brown coat was definitely mine. I called it Lucy. She was a female pup, and I was already imagining the day when I would become a grandmom.
Lucy grew up fast. In no time she was a regular bundle of joy – a ball of fat rolling in gay abandon. The other pups, though not mine, were equally delightful. And thus it thrived, this little family of mine, in the far end of the common backyard. Of course we had cleaned the area, and even provided Scooby with a rag bed for her pups. I couldn’t have carried one home - in any case my mom wouldn’t have allowed, and even Scooby wouldn’t have permitted.
The conversation of the kids of the entire neighbourhood was dominated by the latest about Scooby and family. Feed time was special. Scooby would just roll over, and the pups would latch on to one of the numerous tits. A lot of pulling, pushing and nudging would take place before everyone had had its fill. The contented look on their faces was little short of angelic.
The pups were changing with time. The scraps that we saved for them from our tiffin boxes did not satisfy them. My heart broke when I saw Lucy scrounging around the garbage bin. When I tried to smuggle food out of the house I got a big lecture on the rising cases of rabies in the city.
The worst was yet to come. Lucy was gone! I was sure I’d find her plastered on the road, her entrails the feast for crows. Instead I found her cowering in a drain, drenched to the skin. It took quite some ingenuity on my part to clean her, as taking her home was out of question.
I was getting tired of Lucy. No longer was she my cute little pup. She was a sturdy female who could defend herself against the neighbourhood bullies. The proprietorship that I felt for Lucy was gradually waning with time. But there was no lack of love or loyalty on poor Lucy’s side. She would still come bounding the moment she’d see me, which was more of an irritant now that she was a large smelly dog .I too had become bigger. I knew I could not keep a stray as a pet, but the love that she had for me was like a cord round my feet. I felt guilty for not being able to look after her. I thought I would see recrimination in her eyes. But all I ever saw was boundless love.
And then came the final blow. Lucy was gone for good. Some say she was picked up by a dog squad. Some say she left for a better locality. I’d never get to know……..
But one thing I know and I want you to know - Never love someone if you can’t be consistent.