I wrote earlier about how, five years ago, a little puppy came into our lives. Lola is now a grown-up dog—still quite fierce and territorial, but equally loving towards her family, and no longer destroying various things around the house.
On 23 January, we got a second dog. And this one arrived in equally dramatic circumstances.
It was the day of the cycle race in central Pune, and the roads near our area were due to close by midday. Stray dogs would pose a real risk to the cyclists, and I believe both the government and local volunteers were working hard to keep strays away from the roads.
My wife and I had taken Lola for her morning walk a little later than usual and were heading home. Just outside our apartment we saw a beautiful little puppy, looking confused and clearly new to the area.
The pup wandered onto the road right in front of us. A car braked suddenly to avoid her. The frightened pup darted to the other side of the road—but a bus was approaching from the opposite direction. Luckily the driver spotted her and brought the bus to a halt. The confused pup then moved right next to the front wheel, where the driver could no longer see her.
My wife and I made eye contact with the bus driver and signalled for him to stay where he was. I ran across the road, and the scared pup tried to run away from me. I caught her in my arms, and after a few seconds she stopped struggling. As I crossed back to join my wife and Lola, I realised I was sweating from the narrow escape the pup had just had.
We walked through the apartment gate and, just like five years earlier, I found myself holding a new puppy in my hands. The watchman looked at the pup and said, “Iska kismat accha hai”—she is lucky.
Five years ago we had been clueless, but five years of dog parenting had made us somewhat wiser. We gave the pup some water and food. She was a girl. We then immediately took her to the vet for a check-up.
The vet was quite direct. He estimated that the pup was about three months old and prescribed the same approach we had followed with Lola: feed her only curd rice for the first couple of days, in several small meals. He also asked us to pay attention to the pup’s stools during the first few days, because street dogs often have to eat literally anything they find in order to survive. Because of this, pups from the street sometimes carry illnesses that can manifest suddenly and prove deadly in the first few months.
After a rabies shot and an anti-flea treatment, we were free to go home.
The pup slept through most of the first day—probably the combined effect of the rabies shot and the stress she must have been under.
The next morning I took her to the terrace garden. She was straining to pass stools, and I was shocked to see paper coming out. Eventually it all came out. Life on the streets is clearly tough for animals everywhere. At least in this case it was paper that the pup had eaten and not plastic. Plastic kills a large number of street animals—dogs, cows and others.
Of course, we immediately took a picture of the pup and circulated it, saying we would foster her until someone adopted her. But by the second day it was becoming clear that she was going to be our second dog.
Adopters were not exactly beating down our door. Indie dogs do not enjoy the same popularity as foreign breeds, and female indies are even less in demand than males. Someone did enquire on the third day, but by then we simply could not imagine giving her away.
Naming the dog was easier this time around. The pup has beagle-like colouring, with a white streak along her muzzle and forehead. It reminded me of Toblerone chocolates. We tried “Tobbler” for a day. That soon morphed into “Tobu”, and finally into “Tobi”. Simple—and it rolls nicely off the tongue.
All dogs are different, just as all children are different. Tobi is laid-back and clumsy, unlike her elder sister who is extremely alert and agile. Lola is elegant; Tobi sprawls around in a highly undignified manner. Lola loves people but greets them with relative dignity. Tobi greets us with what we call a “love attack”—no boundaries at all, just a full-on headlong assault of licks and nips.
Lola was initially not thrilled about having a new sibling. She barked ferociously and would not allow the newcomer into “her” room or near her toys. This worried me, but Sonie—after some internet research—assured me that this is the normal way a “senior” dog establishes its status with a newcomer.
In any case, Lola was all bark and no bite. The newcomer, meanwhile, seemed completely unafraid, calmly standing her ground in the face of the aggression.
The play-fighting began a few days later. Tobi persisted in trying to get Lola to play. Lola’s aggression was met with Tobi’s cheerful persistence. Eventually Lola gave in.
Now they run amok all over the house and tire each other out. Lola gets far more exercise now than she did when she was an only dog. When she finally gets tired of it all, she simply retreats to another room to escape the pesky youngster.
Walking two dogs has become a more complex exercise. The little one wants to follow the big one—but she also wants to do her own thing. Lola has a large social circle, consisting mainly of human friends and dog enemies. Tobi seems much more easy-going. She may not make as many friends as Lola, but she will almost certainly make far fewer enemies.
And as for us—well, some people think we are slightly mad to take on another responsibility when we already have an ageing parent, a school-going son and a dog. Others have praised our generosity and said, “God bless you” for giving the pup a home.
We think we are neither lunatics nor angels.
This was simply meant to be. It was our choice—and we will face life together as a joined-up unit.
