Some musings upon passing away of a decade old companion- Django

1. Django- Bye Bye My Friend
He was the quintessential “Dumb
Blonde” – I always used to
introduce him with that phrase. I
have no idea if he ever understood
the love behind all the laughter
that used to follow. Putting the
handful of dirt over him the eyes
welled up with tears; few drops of
the salty liquid for over a decade
of memories and companionship.
He looked as if he was sleeping peacefully when his foster mother
placed an apple near his chest. At a different time and space he
would have gone mad scrambling to stand up and devour the fruit,
but not today.
Django was my second kid, the
weaker of the two kids that came
into our lives long before I could
call myself a father in a socially
acceptable way. I guess each
dog is unique to his human friend
in its own different way. But I do
think he was wee bit more special.
He did make a strong statement
of the short span of a decade of
his existence.
He chose to have a lifestyle that
could be termed queer by
canine standards. He would
prefer fruits and vegetables to
milk and meat, would be seen
grazing upon an unsuspecting
farmer’s cauliflower crop and
would openly declare his
homosexuality. He carried his
childhood well into his old age
in body mind and spirit-
scrambling after that rolling apple often banging into inconvenient
walls and chairs that came in the way.

2. Memories keep flooding back.
How can one forget that walk in the mountains when we saw him
traveling the same distance four times over checking on each member
every few minutes, that cute little face peeking from behind that rock
wall in the snowy haze? Can I ever forget that stylish canter as he
would come running and tease Jackie into exasperation, his face
almost smiling in naughty glee.
He taught simplicity. The absolute bliss that can be when you do not
spend cerebral energy in
anything else but your basic
passion- fruits!
Forever the little kid, at the
slightest discomfort he would
come running and climb all
over, trying to say it all with his
eyes and a faint grumbling
bark.! It’s a different thing that
his 50Kg bulk would keep spilling
out of one’s lap. And then he
would be quite and
comfortable.
I remember the hours one spent brushing his lovely golden coat that he
would proudly showoff in the evening walks. Today they poured salt
and dirt over it and he didn’t flinch. He did not promptly shake it off in
his style- an impatient shake as the hind legs almost loose balance. His
eyes remained closed- never to open again.
I remember the discussions while driving him around in the Himalayas.
He would go rapt in attention at the first smell of the mountain air-
gazing into something far away beyond the forests and the hills and
the peaks. How we used to
comment in jest about his past
life being that of a Sadhu. I wish I
could have laid him there where
he could be close to all that –
forest, nature and fruits.
I shall not see him anymore in
the body that I had got used to
seeing him in. I do however wish
and believe this was the last of
the journeys he would undertake
in the cycle of life.