This cute little ball of fur bounced into our lives several years back. We named him Fluffy without hesitation. He reminded my sister of the dog, with the same name, in a story I had made up for her to coax her to help me with the household chores.
With this fellow it was love at first sight, notwithstanding the puddle that he made nervously on the floor.
Mom, reluctant at first, finally gave in to his charms.
He grew up at a furious pace, with his voracious appetite. A plateful of food would be gone within seconds . He snapped ferociously at anyone trying to interrupt his favorite past time.
We considered him to be the fattest Pomeranian around .
To help him cut down his weight we took him on nightly walks leashed on a heavy chain, but gave up soon when this hefty fellow took us for a walk instead!
He hated his weekly bath which was interspersed with whining to show us his intense displeasure. This was followed by a dip in Robin Blue, a clothes whitener, to make him white as snow. How my friend laughed when she heard this!
Fluffy resembled our Ammachi (grandmom) in that, both clad in their regal attire would strut around the house doing nothing. She wore a Chatta (long white blouse) to match with her white Mundu (a cotton lungi with a fan-like structure behind) -a malayalee attire.
The only difference-one picked on me continuously while the other- I picked up!
Exasperated at being chained often in our open courtyard at the back of our house, this intelligent dog knew to time his unpermitted, unchained exit from our house perfectly. He waited for the opportune moment when Dad would open the front door, as well as the gate, in order to take his scooter out, and then vanish at lightning speed without anyone knowing. Barking relentlessly and reveling in his new found freedom, he went after anything speedier than him.
He loved pursuing cyclists down our road. One of them, an elderly man, would hoist his legs up the handle bar, miles before he approached our house.
When this repeated day after day, he had no option but to threaten the rascal with a huge brick he picked up from the roadside.
We watched all this, giggling, behind closed curtains.
Sometimes this crazy dog acted like a dimwit. Like the time he circled around a tree trunk, raising his one leg to do the needful.
My brother, who caught him in the act, shooed him away before he could apologize to his friend, whose brown trousers Fluffy was trying to water.
We'll always remember the manner he ate an egg. Holding it delicately between his front paws, seated underneath the sofa (as if we would steal it from him), he'd gently peck on it. Then neatly, without spilling a drop, he'd empty its contents into his mouth.
Fluffy fell in love one winter. Having met a cute female Pomeranian at someone's place, he found it hard to forget her. He moaned and he moaned. All day. All night. For 3 days.
One day he went on a fast. A week long fast. He ate nothing. Just lay down weakly the entire period.
As this was a repeat of the previous year and considering the vet's advice that it was a normal thing for dogs to do, we didn't pay much heed.
Early one morning, we heard Mom crying out in anguish. Rushing to her side, we found our dear pet lying on his side, motionless.
He was no more.
He had vomited a bit on the front room carpet, before lying down next to the one he so loved, as if in gratitude for all she had done for him.
Immersed in our exams we found it tough to concentrate.
Fluffy lived only 3 years. He filled our lives with sunshine and happiness.
It's difficult to let go of his memories.
:'(