It seems it's either a book or a movie that inspires me to write a blog. This time it was the movie, Marley and me. I was watching this beautifully enacted movie on a lazy Sunday morning without bothering to get off from my bed.
While watching this movie, the memories of my first Dog, "Tiger" kept flashing in front of my eyes. Interestingly, Dogs were the last thing you could find in my home and thanks to my Mom; it was the first thing in her hate list.
My desire to have a dog was always dormant until one day when my friend Danny invited me to his house to show the puppies. They were German shepherd cross. I spotted a cute little one and told him its mine.
When I decide to have a dog at home, the primary reason I had in my mind was home safety than anything else. I believed dogs are more agile and trustworthy than any security guard. I failed to convince my Mom to bring the puppy home.
But when she looked at the small creature which anyway I had brought, she couldn't say no. We named it Tiger. Initially, we had trouble feeding milk to it, but later on, we realized it reaches itself to the milk cup by following the noise we made by hitting the bowl.
I sacrificed my sleep on the first few nights to the loud noises of this tiny creature. I was cursing myself for having brought this loudspeaker home. Well, I had done my part by bringing Tiger home, but when it comes to taking care part, it was mostly my parent's job. Laziness had always been my priority.
Owing to my marine training schedules, I stayed very less at home. I returned home after a six months training period and saw that Tiger had grown notably big. It remembered me, and also made very clear to me by its actions that I was its least favourite person at home.
I hardly bothered and started training it for commands. I tried to make it jump by attaching biscuits to strings. All it does is sit down and wait as if the cookie will come down by itself one day.
Tiger, despite being a German shepherd cross, it was short. It had a bushy tail and cat eyes. My Mom always praised it for being intelligent, for finding its food wherever it was (even I do that, but never get appreciated. I wonder why). Tiger gave me a tough time, especially when it comes to morning walks which, in my view, was still midnight.
Even during those walks, I had to run to control it (these stray dogs like bullying Tiger all the time). The Vet too had a tough time injecting it with the necessary vaccines. It was undisciplined Dog, angry at every stranger except for regular visitors and me (I was not much a frequent visitor as well).
When Tiger was small, I remember its head getting struck in our bike's wheel spokes. It was terrible, and there was nobody at home to its rescue. It was me who had returned home unexpectedly early to save its life.
Meanwhile, after my training, I got into an upgrading course, and that means more detachment from home. Tiger, on the other hand, had formed a close bond with my parents and also with my younger brother.
Tiger gets excited by my Dad's incoming scooter noise, long before it is audible to our ears. The word "let's go walking" stirs a spring out of Tiger. It's hard to control its excitement, and by the time the walking comes to an end, we get soaked in sweat.
Severe were those days when Tiger runs out of the house when we keep our gates open by mistake. It's still worse when this happens at night. There were days when I roamed around some deserted territory in the middle of the night searching for Tiger (Many might have got scared seeing me in the middle of fields at midnight.).