Ju

Exactly three months ago, the first night of May '07, I was tossing about restlessly on my bed, nurturing no false hopes of catching a wink. I had wanted no mistakes. No regrets.

A mad week of excitement,online researches , trips to vets and kennels and eager searches had just gone by. I've never had a pet, leave alone a dog that I've always wanted to have ever since my friend back in second grade told me over lunch that her dog used to wake her up each morning. Given my craze ,not to forget the practical conveniences of small dogs,after 18 years I decided it was high time I got one.The vet advised me to go in for a male pup.Apparently easy maintenance.Ok.. sex issue resolved, the hunt began.

Next stage was the connection part (Mind you,Ive dreamt of that moment) that would help me pick out my lil one. I wondered if I'd end up picking the cute one that would give me the magical lick or the sad one sitting in the remote corner,looking lost. Those were the only two stories Ive heard from pet lovers and I didn't know any better to expect anything else.

Well the first place I went to was Maneka Gandhi's People for Animals,a shelter for lost animals.They were doing brilliant work and I would have picked one if only the lot of ten puppies,beady eyed with tails that couldn't stop wagging, hadn't come out running to welcome me.I didn't have the heart to single out one.So,I moved to a pet shop,where I found a clean cutie in a basket nibbling away to glory.I spent around half an hour playing with her,but I knew I would have to leave her behind simply because I wasn't ready to take care of a female pup and I didn't want to mess up her life.And the week went on...till I heard about this perfect pedigree brown male daschund. I was on the threshold of dizzy happiness. A brown dasch was a breed I digged for. It was well beyond sunset, but I set out in the dark to feel the connection;)

The kennel was on a dingy dark terrace. There were labs,great danes, daschunds and pugs. The floor was moist and my first whiff of unadulterated dog smell. I didn't like it. I was terribly disappointed. I tried looking at the dasch pups..hoping one of them would help me take a decision.When they showed no inclination, I decided to hold them and feel the "connection". Very wrong decision. The stink and the stickiness told me even in the darkness that the indifferent pup had never had a shower his whole life. I told the keepers that I needed to think about it and that I would get back the next day.

And so that night I was tossing. The stink had enforced a reality that I had earlier thought I could handle. Now it dawned on me that I was going to become responsible for a life. I felt like a single parent. My accessible friends didn't understand and those who tried to, decided I was bonkers.Just a dog,they said.I wouldn't blame them,I hardly understood myself. It was a roller coaster ride. After all that, I couldn't believe I was having second thoughts about it. At some point,I was mad at myself. It was not about the pup anymore. My biggest strength and my undoing were the same.I thought too much and I felt too much.

Period.

Early the next day,I was on the way back from the kennel with the sticky cool pup I had held the previous day, on my lap. The following days were pure terror for the pup and me. But again,time won out amidst us.We grew on each other and the rest is a story by itself.

When I put him to bed in the nights,I wonder how close I was to have taken the wrong decision.Today,Whiskey(who later on became bichki, buchki,buchuks,ajoo and for the moment Ju) wakes me up in the mornings.