Enjoying the fruits of her labour
The Dog We Stole is the definitive biography of Her Majesty Begum Pathumma. Read earlier episodes of the series on the TDWS page.
We were on our way back when the watchman called. The RWA secretary had asked him if we had stepped out. We knew that meant trouble. We hurried back, each step quicker than the one before. Truth be told, we did want Pathu to bark her head off. Nothing would be sweeter revenge than letting these assholes climb the walls in tune to Pathu’s riveting caterwauling. But you understand that we moved in polite circles where difference of opinion was buried deep and manifested only as acne which was totally treatable. Well, there might have been a spell or two cast while they looked away. For the uninitiated, ‘difference of opinion’ or ‘agree to disagree’ are ciphers for absolute abhorrence.
Logically still, we were moving out anyway and we had had enough with that RWA. But as pet parents we worried about Pathu. As we sprinted home, we waved at panic who was crossing the street to meet us. Why was Pathu barking incessantly? What was Echo doing? Did she hurt herself or get stuck somewhere in the house? You see, the vivid imagination is an occupational hazard.
This sudden expenditure of energy is called a zoomie in the dog world.
We opened the door, out of breath from the running. The second the door opened, barking put a finger on her lips. As if she were waiting for an audience, Pathu began her zoomie workout. She ran laps around the room, legs askew, ears akimbo. These parkour laps followed the walls of the room, bouncing off the couch. Her nails made a sound very similar to furious typing of the laptop’s keypad, much like a writer on Day 1 of writing. This sudden expenditure of energy is called a zoomie in the dog world.
Pathu’s plan for us was perfection. Gleeful to see our puppers in one piece and blinded by our puppy love, we stepped into a giant puddle of pee, running after Pathu who was running after Echo who had lost the plot. Pathu of course, did not relent. Meanwhile, pee was spreading across the living room like Covid and we were the transmitters. Since I had to pee, I wore my shoes to the bathroom and back. The carpet and couch were already a red zone. He went to pacify his computer that jabbered on weeping black and white JSON tears. What followed was a lot of swearing and generous capfuls of Dettol. Her Majesty Begum Pathumma rested on the couch, leaning all her weight on her older brother, looking regal and pleased as she watched the fruits of her labour.
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