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It was all done in the spirit of good fun. I had just returned form an early morning inspection of the grounds. The fresh air full of all the ozone thingy that humans speak of had put a spring in my step. Sadly enough there were no moony love-sick Labradors around to do that. Sighhhh. So I had to make do with what was available. Anyways the fresh air having done its bit, I was in an expansive mood and decided to liven things up a bit for the two old fogeys with whom I stay. One was having his bath and the other was busy in the kitchen, probably getting (I hoped, for the morning air does make a doggie hungry) my milk ready.

I looked around and my eyes homed in on the wastepaper basket. I pounced on it, tipping it over, bit it and started shaking it imagining it was the fat cat that laughed at me sitting high on the wall. Bits of paper flew all around and littered the clean floor. Puuuuurfect! What a surprise for the fogeys who have no real excitement to speak of in their drab lives. It falls on me, to inject some thrill into their boring lives, I must say.

Nosing around among the contents strewn on the floor, I chose a crumpled bit of paper that I liked the smell of and proceeded to chew on it with diligence. Nothing like something to chew on to aid doggie thought. Right then I heard the bathroom door open and looked up, pride written all over my cute doggie face at my handiwork. My tail was wagging too, maybe not nineteen to the dozen for nineteen is for special occasions not the mundane, but close enough.

What do you think happened next??!! The Dad fogey started yelling at me. Sheeesh, a girl cannot even have some fun in these parts. Dad! Don’t be such a spoilsport, I tried telling him. But he wouldn’t have a word of it. He not only chased me out of his room, but out of the house and closed the door shut with a bang. I heard him mutter something about the stupid dog having ruined his tidy room. I bet he got that from Mom fogey. She calls me ‘Stupidity’ at times.

You bet I was pissed off and royally so. The good intentions of a doggie are not understood by humans. I was going to sulk and how! I was going to hide somewhere and NOT let them find me. So there!! They were going to be so bored, they’d come in search of me. Ha!

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I crawled behind a bush, made myself comfortable and was starting to doze off when I heard Mom’s voice calling to me. Come and get your Lala pachi (milk, in case you were wondering) she was saying. My tummy was growling. But no sir, I was NOT going to budge. A dog has her pride. I heard Mom ask Dad if he had seen me and Dad telling her why he had chased me off his room and out the front door. I heard Mom laugh. Oh you find it funny eh Mom??

Mom was now calling me by the many different names she has for me. Oh yessir, she has hundreds of names for me. Romakkudukka, Vellari, Cleopatra, Oolpop, Ullibajji, Chakkarakutty, Munjikkannu to name a few apart from Stupidity of course. She excels in the naming department. Yo she does! Did you guys know that she used to call one of my ancestors who had been with her in her student days by the name of ‘Soap-box’? Crazy if you ask me. Of course there always is a story behind the names she comes up with. The Soap-box story goes like this.

This ancestor of mine, also of the Spitz breed like me, had soft white hair, just like me. Hehehe.. So Mom used to call him… Ohhh, by the way he bit Mom once! Can you believe that?? And lemme tell ya folks, I have never bitten Mom. I lovvvve my Mom though I never admit that to her. I cannot dream of biting her. Besides who would dare?? I mean, I must say my ancestor was one brave dog to have done what he did! Anyways, Mom used to call this brave dog, whose real name was Chinchu, ‘Softy’ on account of his soft white coat. And slowly the ‘Softy’ turned to ‘Choppity’ and from there it went to ‘Soppupetty’ (I told you she was crazy). Soppupetty in Malayalam means soap-box. So finally she ended up calling him ‘Soap-box’ of all things. A loony-bird if ever there was one, is my Mom.

I heard footsteps coming around the house. Mom was looking for me. But she was not going to find me. I was well hidden. Ooops, I spoke too soon. Just as she came around the house, she spotted me. Has a sharp eye my Mom and all this talk of astigmatism and failing eyesight is a ruse methinks!

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She started laughing hysterically when she saw me and called out to Dad to tell him where I was hidden. I was offended, and didn’t look at her, but lay there sulking. And… and… what do you think she did?? She vanished as abruptly as she had come. Mom, that was mean of you Mom. You didn’t say a word to me, Mom. I am really hurt, Mom.

I sighed. What was the use?? She had left. I was left with a tummy growling in protest on not getting its customary share of milk which it was supposed to round about this time of the day. I lay there wondering about my next move when I heard footsteps returning. Now what?!

It was Mom again. What was that in her hand? Had she gone to get my milk for me? Awww Mom, you knew I was hungry, didn’t you? You always know, Mom. You are the sweetest Mom a doggie can ever have… I love you, Mom. The milk of doggie kindness filled my heart to the brim and was sloshing around as Wodehouse would say (Of course I don’t read Wodehouse. But my Mom does, a lot) and was all set to overflow when I heard it. Click click click.

Omigawd Mom was clicking my pictures! She had only gone to get her camera. And all the while I had been…. Oh never mind. Mom, I am not speaking to you. And don’t you laugh like that. You are the meanest Mom a doggie could ever have, Mom.

I promptly hid my face behind the bush.

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