To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people ... to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived. This is to have succeeded,” said Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Success for me, though, is when the wet, cold, soft nudge of his nose comes to rest on my toes, as I breakfast on my warm oats. It is in my lotus, when I’m shaken from my reverie, by his head butting my elbow aside, business-like, lifting his stubby legs, snuggles his head and torso on my lap, as of right, breathes a long sigh. And another one, loud, snore-like.
It is when I leave the room to get a cup of tea, he breaks his sleep and follows, as if he was being swept unawares by the tailwind in my wake.
It is when he barks a crying long before I have opened the gates to my home and driven the car into the drive, the bark, a mixture of admonishment and a welcoming lacing a curiosity, an anger lacing impatience, a continuous quivering nose to tip of tail.
It is allowing me to touch his paw, when barbed wire had pierced his soft pads and emerged on the other side, to softly stroke it despite not being able to place any of his weight on it and wary of anyone else coming near.
He is when, despite this injured paw, he is at the door, to silently see me off and receive me without the customary barking when I return.
It is when he wants the whole length of his body to be in touch with mine as I lie down and no part not to be in touch, his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm and audible, mingling with mine.
It is when he does not merely lick, he bores, every time I return, my eyes, my cheeks, my neck, my nape. You see, there is not the need for me to take my shower!
Once he uncharacteristically growled after I tried to retrieve a bone from his jaws. A sharp rebuke came out of me. Success for me is when minutes later the bone was given back, he turned away and continued to deny himself the bone for two full days. On the third day, he gingerly took it from my extended hand, letting it fall from his jaws. He looked at me seeking one more permission. I gave it. After it was firmly in his jaws and his teeth were heard grinding away, on a whim, I placed my hand on that wet bone to retrieve it.
He merely let me and looked away. Success!
Email: jairamseshadri@hotmail.com