Hush, I & that which went between us those days - Part 3

This is the 3rd and the final part of this story. If you have not read the first two parts, you may want to read them first via the links below:

Part 1:https://cosmicliaison.blogspot.com/2020/04/hush-i-that-which-went-between-us-those_16.html

Part 2:https://cosmicliaison.blogspot.com/2020/04/hush-i-that-which-went-between-us-those_63.html

 

CHAPTER 4 - The Absolution

The morning breeze hung heavy and thick in the room, I lay in my bed feeling ironically gloomy in the brightness of the day. As I sat up on the bed I threw a glance at the sand pit in the balcony outside – it looked back mocking at me with its dry, unspoilt form. I looked back at Hush who lay there in half a coma, not even expecting to be taken for a walk. I contemplated on my current situation - giving up was uncharacteristic of me, and damnit, I had promised to offer every comfort and care to Hush when I adopted him, if this situation was not the true test of it, what else would be? I decided to change my approach - forget about walking hush, quarantine etc- I need to understand how can I get a dog to poop! As I started scanning online pages on this topics, I came across a series on assisting elderly dogs who are unable to relieve themselves without some external assistance. The videos that followed were not for the faint hearted, but they offered some practical advise on how to get a dog anatomy and how to make  dog pee or poop. Gross as they seemed, at that moment, nothing seemed excessive or tough to me.

As I looked at my sand pit, I was reminded how as a puppy, I had struggled to get Hush to relieve himself on paper or pads. I would lay them all around the house at spots that he would go to relieve himself, but Hush would pee anywhere but on those papers. It was almost like he could smell me on those papers and felt inappropriate to relieve himself on those. As I now stared at the sand pit, I wondered if the same thing was repeating itself here? Could he probably not be realizing that the sand pits were created for him to relieve himself?  All that dirt and soil and plants that I had placed there with my own bare hands carried my unmistakable scent on them and thus seemed wrong for him to dirty? I then realized that I had to do something symbolic for him to know the purpose of the sand pit – maybe Hush was not being stubborn, he was still not getting a clear enough cue that the sand pit is a place meant to relieve oneself. I may be wrong, but there was only one way to find out. I walked out to the balcony, stood in front of the sand pit, unzipped my shorts, and….relieved myself on it.

Having had my hopes risen only to be crushed so many times these last few days, I was not prepared to get hopeful again. This was one more attempt to try and try I did. I then gave Hush a massage in his abdominal area (where the bladder resides), it was clearly swollen and full – hopefully some artificial pressure would make him want to go. He stood patiently and worked against my pressure. Calmly, I got him on his harness for his walk and a short stroll across the living room later I walked him to the balcony. This time, Hush lingered a little longer at the sand pit, sniffed around curiously, he had figured something was different about it. His tail lost its wag, he stood there his head hanging about as if contemplating something. Suddenly he turned around and went back into the bedroom and lay down. Surrendering, I followed suit.

An hour later, as I got to fixing my lunch, Hush walked up to the kitchen door and just stood there. Something was unusual as he did not walk into his favourite room in the house, the place which always smelt of food. He just stood there, gazing at me for many moments and then sheepishly walked away. Surprised, I continued working in the kitchen for a while until I noticed that the house was rather quiet and I couldn’t even hear Hush’s footsteps. I tip toed towards the balcony with the sand pit, he wasn’t there, the bathroom in which’s bay area there was the second sand pit, he wasn’t there either. I found him in the other bathroom at the far end of the house sitting by himself. As he caught sight of me, he got up and walked out. Was he going to relieve himself there?, I wondered. I kicked myself for peering!

I walked back into the kitchen and decided to leave him by himself. Once again, Hush ambled into the kitchen, looked at me and then walked out. He went towards the same bathroom again. This time I didn’t bother to go and inspect. A part of me really hopeful that he would relieve himself there. Ah, wouldn’t this lunch turn into a feast! Moments later, he walked back into the kitchen, looking just as miserable as before. Damn, did he or did he not? I went up to the bathroom, and disappointment stared back at me again. I walked back towards the kitchen, wondering what was this bewildering behaviour of Hush? Maybe he was just not able to take it anymore…I should comfort him. He was no longer in the kitchen or the living room, so I went looking for him in my bedroom. As I walked in, I saw Hush out in the balcony, sniffing at the sand pit. I quickly retraced my steps and stood quietly for some time. As I slowly peeped back again, I felt a gush of joy brimming, Hush was taking position to relieve himself! With much strain and some rather long seconds, Hush peed…..for the first time in 54 hours! As he slowly marched back into the bedroom, an ashamed distraught look on his face, I bent down to give him a tight hug, patted him down repeating “Here’s my good doggie. Good Hush. Good Hush. Well done! Good boy!”

Hush was now aware that there was a corner in the house where it was ok to relieve himself. I now had to help him get over his resistance to poop, but thankfully with a few tips from the internet, I was now in a much more comfortable and centred place.

By evening some more good news followed, Malini had tested negative for COVID and the committee had agreed to put up a request with the BMC to allow for our home quarantine to be lifted. As the sun set that evening, Hush and I sat in the bedroom next to each other – none of the tricks to make him poop had worked but there was a general underlying feeling of positivity and calm around – I had been lifted significantly from the lowly pits I was in just 24 hours ago. Since afternoon, Hush had paid 3 visits to his sand pit, sniffing around it, checking it out, not relieving but nearly contemplating about it.

From a distance somewhere, the wind blew in a beautiful melody from a timeless film “Waqt” – Aage bhi, jaane na tu….

 

CHAPTER 5 – The Requiem

The ringing of the elusive intercom awoke me. I sat up at my bed, not sure when I had gone to sleep, the TV was still running, the balcony door was wide open and the sand pit aside from the tell tale signs of last afternoon’s activity was largely lying redundant. Hush was lying on the floor – not having slept on the bed for three nights now. Another ring of the intercom brought me back to consciousness, and I jumped out of the bed to the living room.

Hello.

Hi Ankush. This is Devi.

It had to be good news, I could feel it in my bones

Some good news for you. As you know Malini’s test came negative yesterday. We had an early morning call with the BMC officer today and he has agreed to lift the quarantine limitations on you and the three other families who Malini used to visit. You will still remain in self isolation like the rest of us but you can step outside your flat. You know this means that we can now collect your garbage…

Every feeling can be weighed, and akin to Archimedes principle of measuring volume of objects by the amount of water they displace, the weight of feeling can be felt by the sensation of relief that you experience within you when that feeling passes. I don’t even know if that makes any sense, nor do I care, just as I didn’t care for what Devi was saying about the garbage collection. I immediately opened the main door of my house, let out a shrill whistle and walked out of my flat with Hush’s harness in my hands. I knew I had to do something visibly symbolic for him to believe that I meant to take him down for a walk outside, the harness in my hands had lost its significance in the last 3 days.

Hush lay motionless for many moments, staring at the open door and me outside the flat in the foyer. Finally he heard the elevator door open and me step half way in to keep the door open. At this he sat up, and in a second Hush bolted out of the main door, across the foyer and into the lift.

The house door remained open, I couldn’t care less.

Hush was not wearing his harness, I couldn’t care less.

As we got out of the lift, he bolted out across the parking lot and scampered across his favourite spots relieving himself, sniffing around and getting his jaunty back.

I was relieved to note that even though he had to strain himself to poop, he was able to do so without too much struggle. The grey was shedding slowly, giving way to the familiar golden again.

I am not one of those pet parents, who refer to their dogs as their children and treat them so. I don’t feel the need to think of my dog as a child in order to feel love and care for him – I love him for who he is – he is a dog. It is this awareness that causes me to fully appreciate the fact that there are people out there who feel scared of my dog and thus expect me to keep a firm hand on him when he walks past them. Yes I know my dog is playful and harmless, but they don’t know that. Mistaking him for a child, I would undermine the fact that to many people he looks like any other large scary dog with sharp teeth and nails. Mistaking him for a child, can also cause me to completely fail at establishing a master-dog relationship that is an essential paradigm of raising a dog, even for his own well being. In fact I recall once being reprimanded by one of my friends for referring to my dog as “dog”. "How can you treat him like a dog? He is like your child Ankush", he said. To which I responded calmly, "I don’t need someone to be a human, for me to treat them humanely". When I adopted Hush I knew he was my responsibility and I did it only once I was sure I could afford him the love, care and attention that he deserves and requires. For that I don’t need to treat him like a human – he is a dog and I love him more than some parents could claim for their own children.

Those 72 hours with Hush brought to my realization the immense grit and determination I possess as a pet parent to help my dog tide through a very unpleasant and uncomfortable experience. An indelible bond that exists between him and me and the powerful emotion that exists deep within me to love, protect and provide for him selflessly. I am not sure if any other experience has ever brought me in touch so powerfully with this truth about myself.