I wondered why my neighbours called it Snowy. It was a small - almost stunted-bitch with a gloomy face and a brown coat that did not justify its name at all. In the beginning, it came only occasionally to our house for food but its visits became more frequent when one day it became pregnant and its food intake increased. Its belly swelled only slightly in those days but it was astonishing to find that its weak frame delivered three small puppies in January that year. One cannot but just marvel at the fact that Nature has a propensity to nurture life in the most adverse circumstances.

Elaborate arrangements were made by my family in the open area of the house for all four of them. Packaging cartons and thermocol were fished out to make a temporary shelter to protect them from the cold. The three small balls of fur usually squirmed sluggishly around their temporary home. Their eyes opened only after a week but irrespective of their positions in the house compound they could home in to their mother’s teats for sucking milk whenever it was around.

Now my daughter rechristened the mother as Coco and the three puppies were named as Pikachu, Bruno and Veda. It was a sight to watch them grow and they became playthings even for campus students visiting us. Rashmi and Vijay Ravi from the senior batch used to spend a lot of time playing with them and Coco was tolerant of their presence because it was abundantly bribed with biscuits to stay calm. Against other casual visitors, Coco stood as a vigilant and ferocious guard for its litter and its courage against other prying dogs appeared not only foolish but also comical given the fact that they were sometimes twice its size.

I realized Coco’s ability to scare others when one-day poor Bideepta, a 2nd-year student, who happened to take a walk in front of our house, earned its ire and got yelled at so badly that she cried out aloud for help and was immobilized with absolute fright. On hearing her wailing my wife rushed out, brought Bideepta inside the house and comforted her but she admitted that her legs were still trembling with fear because of the encounter with the little devil.

We soon realized that rearing Coco and its entire progeny- though cute looking-would be difficult. Moreover, there were sundry demands for adoption for the newborn. Without Coco getting a hint about our devious plans we strategically disposed Bruno to our maid servant without any hassle. Next, it was Pikachu’s turn and it was also successfully lifted away by mutual consent one evening by our library staff, Manju Chakradhar. However, this “kidnapping” did not last long as Manju was back with Pikachu at our home the very next morning. She reported that Pikachu wept the whole night in her house and she felt obliged to restore it to its mother. My daughter was more than happy to get Pikachu back and declared that no further attempts be made to play such a villainous role again and we would gladly rear all three of them. I also found my own inspiration when I learnt that Bollywood star of yesteryears, Mithun Chakraborty, rears about 400 dogs in his farm near Calcutta. He hates when somebody refers them as dogs because he considers them as his children and knows each one of them by name!

As months rolled by, the daily routine in our house changed for everybody in the family. Pikachu and Veda were continuously fed with milk, roti, dal and basmati rice! So many hands fed them at home at different times that the trio had the luxury of refusing food if it did not tickle their taste buds. Certainly, they did not lead a dog’s life! Pedigree food made their coats healthy and shining and soon both were heftier than their mother, Coco, - so much so that our visitors found it hard to believe that this undersized creature had delivered them.

It was a regular feature for all of them to go on morning walks with my wife and to romp mischievously all over in the house. They would roll on our feet, lick our faces, jump with delight on our beds and tear away books and papers much to my annoyance. In fact, I lost one library book when Veda happily munched it away. I witnessed Pavlov’s experiment being played out almost daily when I watched Coco and its brigade salivating luxuriantly just on hearing the sound of Pedigree food and they could be lured in and out of the house by dangling their favourite food in front of their eyes.

It was funny to find them lazing around on a cool floor during warm summer days. If any one of us walked around them, they would turn turtle soliciting a “belly rub” and one could almost see their snouts curling in to a contented smile when we obliged them.

After its young ones got weaned away, Coco became independent and started getting attention of other dogs in the campus once again. It was difficult to keep her confined even with the gate closed all the time. Like an agile acrobat, it enacted Houdini’s escape act by contorting its small frame within the small gap under the closed gate and venture out at its own will to mingle with other dogs. Realizing the potent force of surging hormones within its body and their consequences we decided to intervene and prevent Nature’s multiplication act by getting all our dogs neutered by a vet.

On the appointed day and with considerable difficulty Coco was cajoled to sit in the car. Its dog sense made her wary of the whole drama. This was its first ride in the car and it shivered with fear all the way to the veterinary hospital. Sreedhar, my steno, had kindly consented to accompany us.

When we reached the hospital the air was buzzing with whining, moaning and angry barks of other dogs. As a measure of abundant caution Coco had been leashed. It was gently taken out of the car but as soon as it got down it managed to wriggle its neck out of the oversized dog collar and took to its heels. It shot away like an arrow leaving me foolishly holding the leash in my hand.

We were not prepared for this eventuality. What followed was a long chase after Coco. It was nervous and ran helter-skelter. We tried to corner it but it always managed to dodge us because of the open space. When Sreedhar and my wife ran to get a hold, it took to the main road adjacent to the hospital and ran without any sense of direction. The morning office going vehicular traffic appeared very threatening for Coco’s safety as it had the single agenda of running away from the hospital surroundings. We panicked that Coco might get crushed under one of the vehicles while it ran utterly confused. The mad chase went on for more than an hour with Coco always remaining ahead of us. Realizing our inability to catch up with Coco, we even persuaded and engaged a group of local lads to catch it. They used their local tricks but to no avail. The fugitive was determined to prove elusive. It never allowed anybody to approach beyond a few feet.

After some time, I could see that all that running exhausted it thoroughly. Its pink tongue hung loosely while it panted badly. The dismay, at this turn of events, was writ large on its face. I thought I saw tears also in its eyes for the apparent cruelty we were inflicting on the one who was so caringly looked after for the last one year.

At last Coco managed to give all of us a slip when it scrambled in to the Vidhan Sabha complex guarded by local policemen where the local lads were not allowed to enter. They now admitted their failure to fetch it for us and asked us to try our luck again by returning in the evening. The sad news was passed to our daughters at home as they were constantly following the development over the phone and were aghast to know that we were planning to give up the search and return without their dear pet.

With a heavy heart, we returned home empty-handed. It was almost like a feeling one has when returning from a cremation ground after bidding a final goodbye to a dear one. It was a final goodbye for which we were not prepared yet. Such is life. Pain and pleasure, union and separation, exhilaration and disappointment spring from unexpected quarters. The sudden departure of Coco left a big void in our lives.

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