By Tasso Sumpi
An animal lover. A cat lover. An avid dog lover. I used to tell myself.
After a long day at the University, I took the usual 45-minute bus ride home.
I have to walk 10 minutes from the last bus stop to my home.
I hate long commutes. That is one of the reasons I took a rent close to the University.
There are other major reasons, but this is not that story to tell. Maybe in another story.
Distractions.
A three-legged dog.
Unable to cross the road in the middle of the traffic. I was on the other side of the road.
But the dog caught my eye as soon as I got off the bus.
A sad-looking three-legged white dog, almost pink from no hair on the body.
'Khujli kutta', as one would call it.
Perhaps, no, undoubtedly full of ticks and fleas. Will I be able to touch it?
I waited to see if the dog could cross the road on its own.
5 minutes, it couldn't.
I thought maybe I should help.
But I didn't. I couldn't. I watched. Legs glued to the floor.
And then I walked away. 10 minutes walk to my home.
I felt bad for the dog. I felt terrible about myself.
An animal lover. A cat lover. An avid dog lover. I used to tell myself.
Some days later at my rented place,
I found a puppy. Black against the blackness of the night. White paws.
Reminded me of Zorro. Did Zorro wear white gloves?
A small, playful puppy with raw oozing cut on his back. Covered in ticks and fleas.
I touched him.
Bought him biscuits, water, and brought him home.
Bathed him, disinfected his wounds with betadine, used some medicine I don't remember the name of, and showered him with tick and flea powder.
Fed him milk. Fed him pedigree gravy.
Left him curled up with a heart-shaped pillow bigger than him, hoping he would feel safe.
In the other room. All alone.
I felt bad for the puppy. I felt good about myself.
An animal lover. A cat lover. An avid dog lover. I used to tell myself.
Next day I dropped the puppy off at the Rescue centre.
The owner told me they would have to leave him alone in a crate before they let him interact with other dogs at the centre.
A small puppy in an extra large crate with a heart-shaped pillow bigger than him.
I felt bad for the puppy.
Almost cried at the thought of leaving him behind.
After all, he was mine for a day.
Should I adopt him? I already have a dog.
My parents wouldn't allow it.
I can't bear the responsibility of one more dog.
I have to complete my thesis.
So many excuses.
I came back home. Alone.
I felt bad for the puppy. I felt terrible about myself.
So I did what I could.
Donated some money to the centre for dog food.
It is supposed to make me feel good, right?
It didn't.
An animal lover. A cat lover. An avid dog lover. I used to tell myself.