There have been countless opportunities to see her when I look out front. A lady, sometimes dressed in the usual womanly attire, but mostly blue jeans with a faded blouse. I don’t know her name, maybe because I don’t know her language. Humans have strange vocabulary. How on Earth are they able to churn out so many words and expressions from their flat mouths is a mystery to me. But I feel as if this lady speaks in my own language. She understands me perfectly, as I her.

I was born two years ago on this very street, and the earliest memory I have is my mother leaving me, never to come back. Later on, when I met some stowaways in my area, or “duds”, as they called themselves, I asked a bunch of questions but they couldn’t tell me anything about her. My mother looked very much like me, with a big black patch on her chest. It pained me for some time that I would never see her again, but the ache was short lasting. The immediate priority became scavenging for food, enough to live on. From what I’ve heard, our kind isn’t very friendly to foreign street canines, which limited my option of adventuring for scrapes. I’m not so territorial myself, so long as the visitors understand that they cannot shake me off my own land, or eat food unless they have got permission from me first. In a matter of a year and a half, I was a dog of my own right.

I first saw her coming out of her brick building, managing her handbag, intensely staring at something small and rigid in her palm. It was dusk, and that thing was reflecting a pale light into her face. I had seen those objects in other people’s hands but they never made sense. Sometimes they put it to their ears and talk as if another human is standing in front of them. Their hands are very unique, I have noticed. They can actually grasp things within them and they don’t slip or fall off. Anyway, the lady put the thing away, surprisingly (since I haven’t seen a human do that so soon) and started walking. I was about 20 leaps away, waiting for her to pass. As she approached, she took her gaze up from the ground, and looked at me. She smiled. It was the most beautiful and breath-taking human smile I had ever seen. Then she stopped in front of me and said something with a sweet giggle. Man, I wish I knew their language! I was only two months old by then.

The second time was two days later. I was trying to understand why a scruffy old man was chasing me away with a stick, when really all I did was enter his garden and chewed on some worms. That day was one of the worsts actually….a no-food day yet again. This time, the lady was returning to her home from another direction. Her pace was normal, yet it quickened when she saw me. She ran to me and stopped the old man from harassing me further. Before I could feel relieved, I got out of their vicinity fast, my heart was thumping too loudly from all the running. I was exhausted and thirsty. I stopped in front of her home, hoping for the best. After a few minutes, she turned up, smiled on seeing me and took something out of her bag. The smell was hypnotizing. She put the half-eaten food in front of me, and I devoured it like it meant business. My mind was going, “Too hungry! Too hungry!” until there was no more food left. I looked at her. Ever smiling, she poured some water off her container in a small yet clear hole on the asphalt, as if she could read my thoughts. I lapped that water right up. But when I looked in front again, she was gone. Probably inside her home. That day, I met my ultimate savior!

 

 

Part 2 coming up very soon. Watch this space.

Till then, love from @ria1606roy…

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