What do you think? Do dogs dream?
Right now, when I was staring at the blank screen and wondering what my next post should be about; I happened to look at my dog, Blacky. She was fast asleep on her side and all four legs were moving funnily as if she were running, running in a dream.
Aha, Blacky is a good subject and deserves at least one post dedicated to her.
If Mr. Jug Suraiya can write about his Mili and get through an entire syndicated column many times over then so can I.
Blacky came to us as a small black fur ball. Quiet, well behaved and very serious for her age (all of four months). There was nothing she liked better than to sleep under sundry chairs and sofas.
Soon she became an adored part of the family and time flew as it is wont to do sometimes.
She will be nine years old soon.
She likes to read as you can see in the picture. She prefers the supplement to the main newspaper though.
Hates to have her picture taken. If she sees a camera, she just melts into the ground and looks like a raggedy black rat then.
Oh, before you genteel folks wonder, our Blacky is a mixed breed. Her father was a small, bold, perky Apsu with nondescript off white color. The mother was a stately German Shepherd who was a known coward and scaredy cow.She was reputed to hide behind the Apsu at the first sign of trouble and bark from a safe distance.
All four of the puppies in that litter were black in color. Strange! where did this black come from? Oh well. We will always wonder if there was another black player in the picture.
We agonized over a name for her. Our smart, with-it children wanted to have a smart name for her like Ebony or ...I forget which other. But I was stuck on Blacky. The puppy was almost jet black so it was fitting to name her Blacky, I maintained. The children gave up this fight as they had already won the bigger one of getting to keep a dog.
Right now, when I was staring at the blank screen and wondering what my next post should be about; I happened to look at my dog, Blacky. She was fast asleep on her side and all four legs were moving funnily as if she were running, running in a dream.
Aha, Blacky is a good subject and deserves at least one post dedicated to her.
If Mr. Jug Suraiya can write about his Mili and get through an entire syndicated column many times over then so can I.
Soon she became an adored part of the family and time flew as it is wont to do sometimes.
She will be nine years old soon.
She likes to read as you can see in the picture. She prefers the supplement to the main newspaper though.
Hates to have her picture taken. If she sees a camera, she just melts into the ground and looks like a raggedy black rat then.
Oh, before you genteel folks wonder, our Blacky is a mixed breed. Her father was a small, bold, perky Apsu with nondescript off white color. The mother was a stately German Shepherd who was a known coward and scaredy cow.She was reputed to hide behind the Apsu at the first sign of trouble and bark from a safe distance.
All four of the puppies in that litter were black in color. Strange! where did this black come from? Oh well. We will always wonder if there was another black player in the picture.
We agonized over a name for her. Our smart, with-it children wanted to have a smart name for her like Ebony or ...I forget which other. But I was stuck on Blacky. The puppy was almost jet black so it was fitting to name her Blacky, I maintained. The children gave up this fight as they had already won the bigger one of getting to keep a dog.
So here she is, a middle aged dog, my most loyal companion, the bane of all gas cylinder wallahs and delivery men.
What is it with the dogs? Why do they bark at the postmen, delivery boys and rude boys who do bahu wahu bahu when they see any dogs or just pass their doors?
And do they dream perchance?
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