Morning walk is a very good thing. It adds a spring to your step and a radiant glow to your face. Especially if it is timed with the daily jog of your stud of a neighbour! A simple ‘Hi!’ or a ‘Good Morning’, a nod of that handsome head and you are glowing for the rest of the day! Blessed with no such luck, I go for my morning walk for a totally different reason - a very persistent female Labrador who would continue the ‘nudge & lick’ routine till I drag my sleepy self off the bed and out of the house.
Once outside, I change from the ‘taker’ to the ‘taken’ with Gracy (that’s her name by the way) deciding where to go and which new nook or cranny to explore. I simply follow in the direction where I feel the tug. Sometimes, when she decides to explore an especially grassy patch with promises of insect bites and red rashes for the human skin, the ‘taker’ in me awakens and I try to draw her to safer territory. What then ensues is a marathon tug of war between man and animal, with me pulling in one direction and my opponent stubbornly digging her toes into the soft mud, pulling the other way and what’s worse, seeming to win the struggle too! This would go on till another ‘taker’, with his/ her ‘taken’ obediently walking by their side, would pause briefly to stare at us, the dog with a look of approval and the owner with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. That’s when I would gather what ever is left of my self-respect and give a sharp tug at the leash.
Distracted by the other dog, Gracy would temporarily accede defeat, staring after them till they disappear down the nearest bend. Once they are out of sight, she would get ready for round two. But now I am prepared and pull her away just in time. Yet, barely a few steps later the drama repeats itself. By now, I must accept, I’ve got used to the routine and content myself by praying that I don’t encounter a human during the process. Though, by some strange quirk of fate (who I have concluded is definitely a sadist) the so-far deserted road suddenly seems to come to life just at the moment I would wish it to be otherwise. Where are all these people when she is being an angel (oh yes! she does that too sometimes!) I have often wondered. But over the years having meekly resigned to the conniving Mr fate and the ill-timed antics of my canine friend, I trudge on praying for a thicker layer of epidermis!
Our walks take on a much muddier tone during the Monsoons, when the foliage turns a lovely shade of green and the earth brown and muddy. A light rain and suddenly the world around us is teeming with life. While the nights are filled with crickets’ songs and croaking frogs, the mornings are filled with dancing peacocks unfurling their glorious plumage. Oh yes and then there are the earthworms and the jugnu (glowworms) too! Fascinated by all the sights and sounds, Gracy always makes it a point to sniff at each and every blade of grass or flower in sight which, much as I despise it, often has me wading through muddy puddles. Having learnt from my past experiences, now I leave her to her explorations and venture into my own, much less muddier in comparison.
Though I have seen a peacock dancing many times before, it is a sight that nonetheless continues to fascinate me. Fluffing up its feathers, spreading its colourful plumage, it turns round and round trying to attract a peahen who, meanwhile, is nonchalantly pecking at unseen worms on the ground. Then the peacock would utter a sound not quite unlike the whistle of the good old steam engine and she would briefly look up with an expression of ‘nice-but-that-don’t-impressin-me-much’ and resume her pecking, while the exasperated male continue to do the dance.
Leaving the birds to their own games I looked about for signs of Gracy who seemed to have mysteriously vanished into thin air. I searched frantically for her, using my stick to prod the bushes and grassy patches, all the while calling out her name. But no Gracy turned up. Suddenly I heard a rustling in a bush nearby, but as it turned out it was a mud covered mongrel who apparently had been rankled in his sleep by all that shouting and prodding. I continued my search for Gracy, my sleep all gone and my tension steadily mounting – promising God that I would never leave her unattended, never crib about her waking me up in the morning and so on and so forth.
As I went from lane to lane, bush to bush, patch to patch feverishly looking for my beloved dog, the mongrel faithfully kept me company. And then it did something that froze me on the spot - it barked. That was a bark I would recognize anywhere. Here I must tell you that Gracy has the most peculiar bark I have ever heard in her fraternity. It is always ‘Wow Wow’ and never ‘Bow Wow’ like conventional dogs. The rendition may vary as per the mood – growly, happy, upset – but ‘Wow Wow’ it always is. So there I stood staring down at that muddy mass of what a few minutes ago had been a well-brushed golden beige and I felt feelings of relief, despair and amusement wash over me and despite myself I knelt down and gave her a tremendous hug (an act I repented instantly).
Yes I did give her a earful later on and much to her chagrin a cold bath too. Yes I am going to crib again when she begins her ‘nudge & lick’ routine in the morning, breaking my beautiful sleep and yes I will still complain when she would drag me towards muddy pits and we will still have our leash-pulling sessions, and she will again go and loll in the mud at the first opportunity. But I cannot imagine not being woken up like that, not seeing her at the gate when I come back from work, not watching her play with her ball or stare wondrously at the fishes in the aquarium. No I cannot imagine a life without her and despite having her with me for all these years it took a fifteen-minute early morning search for me to realize this. Like I said, morning walk is a very good thing!
