Doggie Love

There he was.

A white furry bundle; tiny brown eyes peeking over the blanket that my dad was carrying him in.

My joy. My everything. My Sunday.

Ever since I can remember, I have always wanted a dog more than anything else in the world, and at the age of 19, my wish FINALLY came true. I was painfully shy and reticent as a child, choosing to spend time on my own rather than in the company of children my age. I would spend days without speaking to anyone and needless to say, my parents were extremely worried about my lack of social skills.

Except when it came to dogs. My eyes lit up as soon as I saw one and I instantly became happier and more cheerful. I remember whiling away afternoons as a child, in the company of a few strays who lived in my area. I’d share my lunch with them and spoke to them just like I would with any other friend. They replaced the human friends that I never had and I felt complete. Years went by and my pleas for a dog were ignored, especially by my mom who had an immense dislike for anything that even vaguely resembled an animal. I grudgingly accepted this fact and eventually the matter was laid to rest.

Until that day.

It was just like any other day. I had bunked college again and was lazing around the house as usual, until my dad called.

“I have surprise for you”, he said

“Whaa…what are you talking about”, I yawned, trying hard to fight the sleepiness in my voice

 “I’m coming home a little early…don’t go to sleep, you’ll want to see this”

“Okay.”

 I hung up, flopped down on my bed and went right back to sleep.

The doorbell awoke me a few hours later and I slowly forced myself to get up from my snug bed. Fighting the lethargy, I trudged slowly to the front door, blissfully unaware of the surprise awaiting me on the other side of the door. I opened the door slowly and saw my dad carrying a blue bundle in both arms, with a slight smile on his face

“What’s that?”, I asked suspiciously, half expecting it to be a bird of some sort (I like birds but really not enough to keep one, plus my mom would’ve had a heart attack at the sight of one in the house.)

My dad remained quiet, while his smile grew wider by the second. Unable to understand what was going on, I hesitatingly made my way to the blue bundle, ready to take flight at the slightest hint of danger from it. I shuffled towards it until it was suddenly at face level and very carefully, so as not to touch it in any way; I stood on my toes and peeked over it.

The best feelings in the world are the ones that words can’t describe and my first reaction to Sunday was one of them. I stood on tiptoe, numb with shock for a few seconds, unable to believe the bite-sized little creature in front of me. Unexpressive as I usually am, all I could do was let out an ecstatic shriek (pretty uncharacteristic as well), and then grabbed him from my dad, and for the next half an hour refused to let go of him.

Tiny brown eyes and ears, teeny little paws and a velvety coat…he was nothing short of perfect. I love dogs in general, but this one was special and above all, MINE. Every little yawn, whine, yip and bark was enough to make me come running to whichever corner of the room he was in and I’d go crazy with joy at the sight of my little treasure.

It’s been three years since then and Sunday no longer looks like the little puppy he used to be, but he’ll always remain one for me. Eager to play at the drop of a hat, he longs for someone to toss one of his favorite toys in the air, and it’s quite a funny sight to see him scamper after a ball or a piece of rope with the kind of gusto and enthusiasm that he does. Whoever said that “a dog is a man’s best friend” sure wasn’t kidding. Sunday has brought the kind of mirth and laughter in my life that no one else could earlier match, and I can’t begin to describe the kind of effect that he’s had on all of us. He’s been with me through all my ups and down and his presence and companionship is a constant source of comfort and reassurance in my life.

To me, he’s Happiness, and for that I am truly grateful.