Sunday, September 09, 2007

Lucy’s dead

8th September 2007

Our dear stray bitch is no more. Only last night I was petted and caressed her pretty face. The friendliest dog I’ve ever seen, the most resilient fighter of hard-times I have ever known, Lucy lived a long life and seemed quite alright the night before God called her. She was loved by all and fed by many.
Surely, if angels don’t look like humans, they’d look like Lucy; her round skull, slender snout, droopy ears, wet black nose and beautiful brown eyes were adorable. When she wagged her tail, her whole body gyrated along and I’ve never seen anybody be as happy to me as Lucy always was.
She was a great mother and took care of all her babies with utmost care. She gave birth to many litters but they were all taken away by the MC. Only once in the past 10 years were her puppies spared to attain full size. One of her daughters was her replica, but was bolder and much bigger than our Lucy. She and her siblings teamed up with their mummy and formed a great pack; Lucy was middle aged then and quite strong; she seemed genuinely busy and happy. The neighbours never seemed to mind them, however the MC took them all away and after 2 months, Lucy was the only one who returned. I felt sad but was relieved to see her alive.
On more than four occasions, I’ve seen Lucy reach the brink of death due to disease, and of these, she disappeared for more than 3–4 months on around three occasions. The first time it happened, I was sure she was dead; she reappeared, fully recovered. The other time it happened I was skeptical of her being alive; she reappeared all healthy and hearty. The other times it happened I just waited for her to return; she did not fail me. I began to think “this life was interminable.”
But in the past few months, she started to grow feebler by the month. Though she was being fed regularly but she kept losing weight and looked frail. Through all this, the gentle expressions on her angel-like face remained. Today morning when I was at work, one of my neighbour friends called me up and told me about Lucy’s death. “She was lying peacefully in the middle of the T-junction” I was told. Riti covered her body in a white cloth till the time she was buried in the ground in front of our house. I don’t know where she got her name ‘Lucy’ from, I never used to call her Lucy; I used to call her Phoenix. Anyway, what’s in the name! She was a pleasant mortal to have around…our Phoenix will not rise again and we will all miss her.


Ashish/आशीष said...

I guess that's how Wordsworth felt when Lucy Gray died. She must have been named so by some romantic then.

jesse said...