Readers write for World Animals Day

I invited some of my readers to write stories that they found amusing or interesting on the occasion of World Animals Day and here are a couple of them. I will publish any more stories that anyone else wishes to send as and when I receive them :)

Image from Wikipedia

Mocha told me that today is World Animals Day, and asked me to contribute. It didn't take me long to think what I could contribute. Much as I love animals, I loved one in particular the most - my soulmate.You know, just like how we humans go around searching for that elusive soulmate. Well, some don't search, some just assume that it is a concept mired in illusion. But I know - it is real. And unlike those who sadly restrict the concept of soulmates to just the two-legged walking upright hairy kind who also happen to be incredibly dumb (nah, I am not talking of those poor apes - they are not dumb, not they. Ever take a look at our planet? See the frightful mess we have made? Think we can call ourselves intelligent?)

But then, I digress. I wanted to write about one of my soulmates - my dog, Bambi. She came into my life late, I was all of 24, shy of the world, and bound by thoughts of the future. A kind professor who was moving to the US could not take her with them. "I am looking for a house for my dog," she announced one day in class. "She is a Labrador, old but we are just looking for a good home for her, " she said. I must have been out of mind, but then the best decisions in life are those we take when we are out of our mind. I volunteered to take her. What was I thinking? At that time we were staying in my sister's mother-in-law's house - on probation while our house was being built elsewhere. The we implies my mother, my father and I. We had never had a pet before - the only one that arrived some ten years back as a pup had left still a pup. We WERE animal lovers, but preferred them at a distance - NOT animal caregivers. "Well, why don't you come and see the dog then, " my professor said. And so I did. Bambi came wagging her tail as soon as we came to her house. I was with my friend - she was at ease with dogs, and soon had Bambi on her back, giggling with delight as my friend tickled her tummy. I stood nervously. How does one behave around dogs? I had not the faintest idea, considering I was not all that good around humans either. But then Bambi took care of that herself in her own way.

At home it wasn't easy. My father put his foot down. "We don't need a dog," he growled. I was almost in tears...well, I amend that, I was in tears - in private I cried night after night into my pillow. It took my sister's gentle intervention. "She has never asked for anything. Agree this once," she pleaded. My father was never happy. But he could never say no to my sister. So Bambi came home. I took her in an autorickshaw, and the maid in the house fawned over her. My mother loved her, patting her fondly. My Dad didn't. In the evening, I sat, wearied, on the steps in front of the house. And Bambi came over. I was down, I was tired, and I hated life at that moment. She crept closer and kept her head on my knee. I felt understood then. For the first time in my life. There were no questions, no expectations - my dog was just with me, and just be-ing. Since then, every time I felt dragged down, she was there. There was nothing more Bambi loved than scrambling into my lap. So I would get up on a Sunday, wear my worst clothes, go down, sit cross-legged, beckon. And she would, heave her big self on to my lap. Did I tell you she was a yellow labrador? Well-toned, not fat, and with what I still think were the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. We would then lie there, I would stroke her head, and she would give her warmth. At other times I would lie down, and she would put one dirty paw over me in an embrace. Never had I felt so loved. And that I didn't have to do anything to obtain that love. Bambi loved. My sister, who had never been near a dog in her life, would come over just to spend hours with Bambi. She was not an angelic dog - not she. She scratched the house door down - wanting to be let in. She bit my nephew when he was patting her a bit excessively. And she once bolted inside one of the bedroom, went under the bed, and growled at anyone who dare enter the room. Morning saw her on the bed - and we had to forcibly get another dog inside so that she would jump out and defend her territory. She hid under the drain. She was a mad hatter. And she drove my father mad.

And that madness made me treat her badly. I beat her. Not once. But many times for her transgessions. I have mentally beaten a lot of humans too. But unlike them, she came back each time, woofing with pleasure when I extended my hand out for a good rub. She knew no revenge. No grudges. I left her a lot - I went to work in a school far away from home, and used to come home once a month. Each time, the best welcome was from Bambi. She would reproach me for leaving her for so long, and then I would know what love truly was. But she was old - 11 years old - and there came a time when she developed a uterus problem. I was away at school, but took her to the vet each time as soon as I could - he suggested surgery. And no, he couldn't guarantee her survival. But the surgery never happened. One night, Bambi, who was locked in the garage by my father as she would scratch the door (a move that I hated) just died. Just like that. My sister was there. Sick and vomiting on my sister's lap, my dog, my soulmate just left. The what ifs are many but I only know one thing - Bambi was with me for eight months - but love can't be measured in time. I treated her bad, I know. But I hope she knows I loved her. So much so that I cry even as I write this. I hope she will forgive me for those beatings. I hope she knows that she was truly my original soulmate. One day I hope we will meet in a world that makes more sense than the one I inhabit right now. Bambi, my love.

- Thank you Tipsy Tea for sharing that beautiful story

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Image from Daily Camera

The Possessive Cow

I really loved this hilarious story about a cow named Apple chasing off a bear that had climbed into her favourite apple tree. An eye-witness to the incident says that the two animals touched noses for a while before Apple chased the bear off. Apple was upset to see her favourite apple tree being usurped by the bear. She loved to eat apples from there and that’s how she got her weird name too

- From Wistful Vandy