Sunday, 1 April 2018

There he is on Rainbow Bridge

The doctor told me it is time to let Simba go. She gave him two days or at the most a painful one week. He gave himself just one day and passed away late at night on 17th of January. A tumour in the back pressing his intestine, hind legs weak with arthritis and bearing the weight of his tumour and then two days ago his front legs refused to support his weight. It was time for him to say good bye to us. The doctor had advised us to put him to sleep instead of prolonging his agony and pain. It was a tough decision for which we were unable to prepare ourselves. How could we do this to Simba who just put his head in our lap and trustingly accepted any number of injections in his body when he was unwell. No anaesthesia, no muzzles were ever required. Just our comforting trusting presence. His faith, trust and uncomplaining loyalty towards us could not be broken;we could not even think about it.Through an uncomfortable evening and late night spent with us,he had already decided he would not let us go through this agony and torment. While we slept The Saint just trotted off to the Rainbow Bridge where only goodness, hard-to-guess grins,wagging tails,wise eyes beneath bushy eyebrows,padded soft paws, trusting hearts,tilted heads, belly rubs and friendly growls abound.As they say,“The dog is a gentleman;I hope to go to his heaven not mans". 
 But Simba is to be remembered for all the lovely times he left us with enriching our lives with his hugs and his nuzzles. Full of energy, playfulness and love he was everywhere, wherever he went. In this house in Hyderabad he made each corner of the huge compound and the house his very own territory. He would be with us, with the men working in the gardens, with those taking care of the house inside, with all the visitors who would come, with the trees, with the flowers, the ducks and whatever was left. He loved company and would feel mighty offended and even sulk if we did not introduce him to the guests at a party. A friendly bark here, a step back and a lifting of the head to give a long howl to say this my house and I am the boss here but never a low growl at the guests.And soon he would make himself comfortable in some corner or right in the centre where everyone was sitting.He says I could not help you in preparing the food or doing up the house but surely I can be of help in the conversation!
I look at the corner, empty today,where he would have his food.There was a food corner for him in every house that we lived in and he would not take any titbits from the dining table.You don't serve a gentleman by giving him food under the table! Oh no sir,I will dine in a proper way at the right time and please ensure good clean water.When he was a pup I recall giving him an omelette each day once the kids had left for school.He would be sitting by the kitchen door at 8 am everyday waiting patiently for me to give him his morning breakfast.But never a bark out of him.Not demanding just patience unlimited. That was the way he was.Patient, knowing that his meal would eventually be served. And this was true for everything all the time. And the faith in us that we would not fail to serve him.A faith so immense that he never barked for his food. When he was hungry he would just go stand near his eating bowls and if they were empty at the kitchen door.No barks just patience and trust.A trust I agonise to think we would have been forced to break to save him from suffering. 
His huge body and large size ensured that his presence could not be ignored. Sprawled in the corridor,near the bed,I n the garden, just outside the front door,often outside in the garden, no home was too big for him.In his younger days he would be sitting by the gate at a vantage point to look at the traffic outside Now in his 11th year he was not bothered. But he waited for all the family members to come and meet him. He waited for Christmas vacations for my daughter to see him,he waited for my son who was to be back in India from Germany in January and he waited for their grandparents who had looked after him when he was a pup. And then after seeing everyone the grand old member of our family made a graceful exit.
I just planted a tree by your grave Simba and I hope you wagged your tail when I did that.

1 comment:

  1. Having a pet is ultimate pleasure, but loosing it is a tragic pain. I remember Simba during my Allahabad days.... The gentle giant. God bless his soul.


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