Imagine a chocolate eyed 7 year old golden retriever and a lively 3 year old girl being best friends. Oh the adventures they have, the mysteries they solve, the love and camaraderie they share! Two peas in a pod, quick to jump and wriggle, scream and bark with excitement and cuddle together in their favourite ‘time out’ corner.
Now, imagine being their mother.
My wispy brown hair hasn’t seen so much action since I rubbed a sheet of paper against my head to create static in grade 2! My apartment has paw prints and footprints on the most unimaginable places. Like the walls.
I find squeaky toys (dog and daughter both love the high pitched wail) under pillows; kibble and parle G in emergency snack boxes because ‘Mojo bhaiya’ might get hungry and all sorts of twigs, bird features and seeds grace my favourite Japanese Honeysuckle flowering pot. That plant is now a black magic practitioner.
The dog, Mojo, is most attached to the husband. He goes gooey eyed and thrashes about as soon as he senses the husband’s presence. I, his cook and sometimes cleaning lady, barely get any affection let alone attention from him. In fact the only time I’ve been his favourite was when I was pregnant with my daughter. Mojo would sniff my belly then lay his head on it and wait outside the bathroom while I peed. And I peed a lot and very frequently. And Mojo was always there, just waiting.
His complete devotion to me was so uncharacteristic of him that it got me worried. A lot of things used to get me worried then. Perks of a pregnancy brain they say.
Got my daughter home from the hospital and Mojo sat at the entrance of the room, guarding it. He would look up with panic on his handsome face every time the baby cried. He tried consoling her one time by leaving a trail of his kibble around her cot. And eventually decided to bury his head under the sofa to keep her crescendo at bay.
Then one day, I decided it was time for Mojo to meet his little sister. And since dogs love to sniff, I presented him with a bum full of poo. He ran!
Now my four legged child looks at me with questioning eyes every time my daughter tries to hug his neck or peer into his ear or pull out his tongue to see if it’s longer than hers. He lets her sit on him and gives her wet kisses, catches the morsels of food she drops ‘by mistake’ and looks out for her all the time.
It’s heart-warming and soul soothing, except for the hard work that members of a fully functional household need to put in to keep everything clean and tidy. Then there’s also the sibling rivalry! Who would have thought that the dog and the child would sulk if the other was praised, petted or patted. He’ll howl and she’ll scowl, he’ll whimper and she’ll foam at the mouth, he’ll present his bum for a good scratching and she will pretend to have a tail.
This adorable combination of puppy eyed innocence is perfect to age you rather quickly. And it certainly doesn’t help to have both when you’re a muttering middle aged matron. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
About Author - Nidhi Verma
Mother of a super friendly 4 legged boy and a spirited young girl
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