Alpha

He hated cuddles. He would squirm and wriggle till he was free and walk away as if you were repulsive but then, he’d look back at you with a smile.

Alpha, with his human-like brown eyes, an ever-wagging tail and looks that could kill, was first a beautiful soul, then an extremely intelligent dog. He had no enemies though he wouldn't like that to be known publicly. Alpha was the most loving, gentle and decent dog you'd ever meet.

Alpha was one of four little puppies given birth by a dog, who we fondly called Blackie. We used to feed her dinner when we lived in Cochin. We named them Alpha, Brownie, Charlie and Delta. He was the first one of the litter that I had picked up and he had immediately slipped and fallen from my hands. I think that was why I had a soft corner for him. I wanted to be sure he was alright and proceeded to check up on him everyday. That was also the reason why, even though everyone who saw the pups wanted to adopt Alpha, I couldn't let him go. In the end, we were left with him and Brownie.

My mother was very skeptical about keeping a pet dog, let alone two. But one day, we heard Brownie howling at the top of her voice. We rushed to the garage where the pups lived, to find Alpha lying there, shivering and surrounded by a pool of his own saliva. Calls were made, medicines were bought and Alpha was revived. The only problem? Both his hind legs had lost their strength and his front legs would keep twitching when he lay down. He couldn't walk more than a few metres and would wait for someone to pick him up. This continued for a few months, till we moved to Lucknow and Brownie was adopted by a friend. There was no way we were giving him away now. So Lucknow we went, now as a family of 5.

I think Lucknow was the turning point of Alpha's life. It was there he found his true calling - being an Alpha. There were lawns and grounds he used to gallop around as his legs grew stronger, though his twitching didn't stop. I always secretly worried about it, even when I told all my friends that it was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

After a year in Lucknow, we shifted to Chennai. Alpha loved it here. He now knew all of us better than we knew ourselves. He knew not to mess with mum. He could hear my dad's car from a mile away. He knew my brother was the easiest to get ice cream from. He knew I was the youngest and was rather protective of me. He understood Malayalam surprisingly well when spoken by my mother. He was the first dog in our colony who used to go walking without a leash on, because he never needed one. He was so smart and would always run to us when we called.

It was so easy to read his emotions that it was heartbreaking at times. Especially when we went out without him; he wouldn't even look at us when we said goodbye. And when we did take him out in the car, I don't think I've ever seen purer joy on anyone's face. If I focus carefully, I can even feel his tail thumping on my arms as I hold him.

Alpha loved the simple things in life. He just wanted everyone to be home so that he can come and check on each of us. So Covid-19 worked perfectly for him for all of us were home and went on walks every single day.

Alpha had rather important day-to-day duties he efficiently carried out. For instance, the mama pigeon on our balcony counted on him to keep the nasty crows away from her little babies and he would always be on guard, putting on his best 'war-dog' face and intimidating barks. He would help my brother study for the UPSC exam by listening to him recite the administrative policies of the govt, he would patiently wait to eat the cucumber slices off dad's eyes at night, listen to mum's endless telephone conversations, bug me to do anything other than sit on my phone, critique the songs and poems I wrote and join in my dance sessions in front of the mirror. He was truly committed to everything he did.

I wish I could say Alpha lived to be old and hefty, satisfied with his life, eventually leaving us peacefully. But fate had other plans.

A car ran over him twice, crushing the organs in the lower part of his body. He was rushed to the hospital by my father and brother.

When mum and I arrived at the hospital, he was attached to tubes. He was breathing rapidly and he couldn't move. We were told that there was a lot of internal bleeding and we had to wait for it to stop. When his blood pressure stabilised, we were hopeful he’d be okay.

I returned home, but I couldn’t sleep that night. He didn’t make it. I remember not being able to cry on the way back to the hospital. The moment I saw him covered in a white blanket, it felt like a part of me had been cut off, somewhere near the heart and I couldn't find it. All I knew was that it hurt. A lot.

Alpha was 3 years, 9 months, 9 days old when he left us. I wanted so much for him to wake up, but he didn’t. We dug a hole under my parents bedroom, where he used to sleep at night. There was a small ceremony. We buried his toys and his half eaten bones with him, and burnt his bed. All I had left of him afterwards was a half eaten milk stick, a few scratches on my skin and a few tufts of his beautiful fur.

They say no one can love you as much as a dog can. It’s true. Alpha had a beautiful soul. The world didn't deserve him, the universe took him back. People who know me well know that I don't talk much. I enjoy silences. I've enjoyed more silences with Alpha than with anyone else.

I realise I've been angry all this time. Angry at myself for not loving him enough because he was such a good boy and he deserved the world; angry at the universe for taking him away from me and my family this way; angry at the way life is finite and love is infinite. As I write this down, I’ve come in terms with reality. He's gone. He's taken a part of me with him, but I'll always have him with me.

Now I'm more thankful that he didn't have to remain in pain for so long. He was too good for any of us. I guess heaven needed him urgently. I'm sure there are more baby pigeons there who are in need of a beautiful good boy's help.

Shree Sauparnika

19/UELS/060