When you are away from someone, you think about them a lot. By the way, I am talking of Luci. What must she be doing now? Is she missing me? Of course, she is. But what must she be thinking in her doggie head when her ‘Dad’ returns in the evening, and still there is no sign of Mom?
Sigh. That’s what happens when you love your baby to bits. You miss her so much that all you can think of when you return to where you are staying at present is to stand at the gate and holler,”Luciiiii!” Not that one ever has ever had to holler for her to be at the gate back at home. She’d already be there, shivering in excitement and barking at me to hurry up and get inside. Only then would she get the chance to jump all over me and try to grab my dupatta and run away. The naughty dog!
Today I didn’t actually holler while getting down from the auto at the gate of my parents’ home, only looked wistfully, wishing to see Luci’s smiling face, but knowing she was miles away. There is one thing though. Being away from Luci does not mean I cannot ramble about her. Right? And that’s a sort of a consolation.
I don’t know if all dogs are this way, but Luci has mapped us, our house and surroundings in her head. One day I heard her barking from my bathroom. Now what the hell has she found there to bark at, I wondered. Intruder alert! Intruder alert! MommaaaAA, MommaaaAAAA, come here quickly. Look what I found! She was bringing the house down with her loud barks. What I found had me laughing helplessly, though Luci herself was dead serious about the whole business. A small length of the money plant vine that I had stuffed in a bottle of water and left on the counter as part of beautification of the bathroom. I had to then assure her that the money plant was there by invitation and was not intruding at all.
Then there was the time she saw the new monopod for the camera sitting in one corner of the bedroom. She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she entered the room. So well had she mapped it that the minute she entered she knew it was not the same. Her face registered her concern, her forehead wrinkling dramatically. Turning right she made straight for the corner where the innocent monopod stood unaware of the commotion it was causing in a doggie head. This time though Luci did not bark. She assumed that my presence in the room meant that the monopod had entered the room with my permission. But still, she had to go ahead and thoroughly check it out to make sure it was indeed harmless and would not murder us all while asleep.
There have been other such incidents too, but these are the only two I can think of now. No worries. There will be other days, and writing about Luci is always fun. 😀