It may be
too soon, just over a couple of hours since the blow struck. Nonetheless, it is
important for me to write what I felt (feel; goddammit this is going to be
hard) about Duke. Important to write now before the assignments at work, my own
paltry jokes, ceaseless entertainment, and the cold wand of Time wipe away the
raw emotion of losing a faithful companion.
Grieving
mustn't be done in public. But this is not grieving, it is about pouring, an
outpouring of a dog (I shudder to even refer to Duke that way) that changed the
way we grew and more importantly, grew together as a family. It physically
hurts that I could never see this coming, neither did I have the rational
purpose to bid him adieu for good the last time I left home. Nobody did. My
mother and brothers are still grieving. I, helplessly, sit thousands of
kilometres away, half-drenched in pathos and half-amused by life. More amused
by how a furry non-human could mean so much. Duke, he who would unfailingly and
unconditionally turn up at the doorstep every time I arrived home, has departed
for another journey.
No, Duke
was not the kind whose photos flood the internet and bask in warm virtual
attention. Heck, we hardly have ten photos of him in ten years. He was
restless, energetic and never to be captured in a frame. Tonight he lies
shrouded in memories alone.
No, Duke
was not the kind who could do tricks or win a medal at the Canine Meets. We
never even contemplated so. He was successful in making us sit, when we had
asked him to. He was the winner of a thousand "I am too posh to give you a
handshake, Human" medals. Because when he actually did sit and shook paws
with us, it was to give us joy beyond dreams and hope beyond reason.
No, Duke
was not sporty, but he was a sport. He could devour entire pizzas in the gap
that we would place it on the table and turn around to pay the delivery guy. He
could snatch a vazhakka bajji like jumping through a loop between our mouth and
hand, cleverly going for the beefy middle portion. He was a sport, nay, a champ
when it came to apologizing for his ravenous act at the end of it all. And who
could say no?
No, Duke
was not the golden haired one, with a fluffy tail. I had even abhorred the idea
of a second one, after all Prince was around for four years and we didn't need
this mongrel, with spots all over him! How I was wrong. Long after Prince had
become a tame, old dog, it was Duke who kept us leaping and playing at our
home. And did I tell you that he had the most beautiful eyes and drooping ears
that could thaw any cold heart? Now, it physically hurts to know that these
eyes to stare at, and the ears to playfully scratch behind, are far far from my
hands' reach. He was a looker like none other.
Yes, Duke
chased cats, squirrels, shadows, insects, chatty school kids who'd irritate his
peace on long summer afternoons. Yes, Duke knew when something special was
being cooked. He knew if someone was sad, happy, angry, or loving. Yes, Duke
lingered around our feet asking to be petted, massaged, scratched, or fed. He
couldn't sleep until he snuggly fitted himself against the arc of our warm
bodies at night. Yet, unlike other dogs, we had to wake him up for walks or to
finish off his milk. He was the youngest, needy
yet magnanimous kid in our family. We all aged with him, becoming more
silent, less playful and severely attached to his calming presence.
An old
saying tells one that they have never truly loved until they have loved and
been loved back by an animal. Both Prince and Duke were our sacks of love. It's
not unconditional. It comes with a time-stamp, it ends annoyingly with their
journeys. For us humans who gauge and love with intelligence, they remarkably
loosen the hearts and teach us to bank on our intuitions. How grateful and
richer are we that such beings come into our lives!
 |
| Providence made us companions, and perhaps providence will make us meet again. |
In your
absence, Duke (and Prince), we are a smaller family. Largely broken at the
moment, but definitely capable of bouncing back with a fortitude that only you
have witnessed. With you in our memories, we will find a million reasons to
stay united, loving and understanding of one another. In your silence, we are
bound to look within ourselves and seek to keep those values that you have most
superiorly rendered in your brief lifetime(s).
When you
meet Appa, I hope he gives you the biscuit and takes you and Prince for a long
walk.
You were
a good boy! You were the best!
Forever,
and ever,
All of
us.
