Who Let The Dogs Out?

Your destinies are written beforehand and I was destined not to exist in the same space as dogs. True, they are considered faithful and all that but I can’t stand these canines at all. Or, maybe it’s vice versa. I have had innumerable dog chases and each of the incidents actually reinforced my belief that there is something about me that dogs don’t like. The worst thing is that my brain stops functioning as soon as I catch the sight of a dog in my vicinity and then I am at their mercy.

This is probably one fear that I have not made much attempts to overcome and would probably never do it either. All efforts to have an Alsatian stand guard at home were rebuffed as I played the emotional card and took a stand – “Either the dog or me!” The biggest joke in my family to-date is – “It’s just some previous birth spill over. He must have been a petty thief who keeps getting chased even now.”

I, however, like to believe that my fear is not baseless. I am reasonable and appreciative of the “cuteness” and “faithfulness” factor associated with these creatures but how do I wipe out from my memories those chases where I was singled out and then subjected to ridicule in full public view by these wagging tailed villains of my life? Yes, I felt singled out and have more than one reason to feel so.

I remember playing cricket in the car parking as a kid when the batsman I was batting with called for a cheeky single. Bruno – the paumerian, did not like it perhaps and it ran down the pitch to catch hold of my ankle. Strangely, it did not care to bother the other runner who crossed its path. As I lunged forward to ground my bat into the crease, Bruno appealed aloud with a woof. I turned around and in a reflex action tried to scare him away with my bat. But lo! I was face-to-face with a Sree Santh incarnation. Instead of backing out, it jumped on me. I ran around and no one came to help.

The worst thing was that the beautiful girl next door saw it all. I had to fire a diwali cracker holding it in my hands to convince her later that the dog incident was just a one-off thing that didn’t turn out the way it should have. The Bruno encounter probably set the tone for my not-so-friendly relationship with dogs.

From then on, I have had quite a few other encounters like the one where a CRPF Doberman chased me around in an empty cricket ground when I sneaked into the ground through a gate left open to catch a glimpse of the stadium. It lasted a good 45-50 seconds until the godsend CRPF jawan called out to Sheru to back out. There was no physical harm done but it scarred me for life.

It is not that I have never ever attempted to get over this fear but the results have been bad. When I try to ignore them, they simply don’t like it. I once stepped on a sleeping dog’s tail unknowingly at a temple and then it threw a tantrum. The matter was resolved only after I made some – “eeeooooo…ayyyyeee” sounds and created a commotion to make a total fool of myself in the queue to express my apologies to the street mongrel. The victor walked away while the vanquished went inside the temple with his plea to God – “Khush to bahut hogey tum aaj mera mazak banake. Kya milta hai tumhe mere se ye sab karwa ke? Ek main hi mila tha us kutte ki dum pe pair rakhwane ke liye?”

Each time I bow down to a dog, my ego takes a big blow. Talking about it here too does the same. As for why I wrote about it then, some people wanted to check out if I could be self-deprecating. I hope I am not disappointing them.