Grave Cats and Batty Dogs

Credits: Varun Rao

A title like the above can be puzzling, I confess, but no other would describe the scenario better.

So here we were, cosily ensconced in Johannesburg, with our daughter and her family. The day before we arrived, an unusually cold front decided to make its presence felt, resulting in our cowering under blankets, gulping down umpteen cups of green tea and hot water. What kept our adrenalin pumping was the presence of our adorable little granddaughter and grandson, both of whom we had not seen for two years, and of course, the rest of the household.

Except that a new member had been inducted into the family where, for so many years, a grey cat, grave and majestic, had held sway. Tyrion (Game of Thrones) was the ideal house pet – pleasing to the eye, present when required and well able to take care of himself. Most of the time, people were not even aware of his presence.

Credits: Gopi Menon

Enter a batty dog, the most beautiful looking Labrador with a personality that was all over the place! A golden creature with melting black eyes who was named Bronn (Game of Thrones again), who looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Early enough, we realized that his favourite pastime was wreaking havoc, tearing around, knocking everyone and everything in the way, including the little ones, and chewing up everything in sight. Right from sniffing at rear ends to leaving enormous stink bombs, virtual and real, Bronn had it all perfectly figured out. He proved to have a penchant for ladies’ underwear, as also for opening the bathroom door right when one was covered with soap suds in the shower cubicle. (Rather a shocker when one is in the midst of a shower and suddenly the door flies open, the latch being a trifle loose, and this ball of fur flies in, tail wagging, tongue flopping about in a goofy grin!)

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The grave cat watched from a safe distance, too dignified to retaliate to the enormous creature that seemed determined to rattle his composure. The little ones loved having him around, protesting only when he knocked them over or made off with their toys or snacks. The grave cat watched on, wishing that he could give the intruder a kick in the rear.

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Certain nights were exciting as a militant intruder cat would raise a challenge, provoking our greybeard Tyrion out of his normal stupor. After all, which brave knight could ever resist a challenge? As the two jousted, replete with mewls and howls, an enthusiastic Bronn would add his sonorous voice to theirs. The only difference was that, long after the other two had slunk into oblivion, our Don Quixote would continue to run about like a whirlwind, dashing against furniture and clambering onto the couches, trying to catch a glimpse of the troopers outside who, by now, were back in their beds, snoring the rest of the night away.

                                                          Credits: Gopi Menon

Five minutes into the incessant barking, the whole household would be up, as each member snuggled into the blanket hoping against hope that some brave soul, which is almost always our son-in-love, would get up and calm Captain Idiotic. The explanation, of course, was that this would continue for the next two years because Bronn was just the typical overgrown over-excitable pup who had no idea of his own strength, or idiocy!

Credits: Priyanka Menon Rao

Our daughter had grandiose plans when she named her pets. Tyrion has lived up to his name, but Bronn could not have been further from the Game of Thrones character, who, even though he was not the most respectable of all, would still have been understandably upset at having a lovable but rather brainless creature christened after him. Maybe it would have been a better idea to have named him 'Odie' after Garfield's pal, given his grey matter, or the lack of it. And to add a pun to this, the word 'odie' in Malayalam means 'ran'. There couldn't be a more apt word for a creature running around like the proverbial whirlwind.

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The latest debacle was when we reached home after a good day’s work only to find the lounge festooned with shreds of toilet paper, an empty M&N packet, an expensive coffee mug in smithereens, tea bags and sachets all over the floor. Just the day before he had gobbled up a chorizo sausage that hubby dear had secreted away, all because he wanted to savour it, bit by bit. (I mean, my hubby, not Bronn!)

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Thus, every day, we live in anticipation as Bronn reveals a new facet of his colourful personality. When we get back home after a day out, it is hilarious to see just his head sticking out of the little cat door, much akin to one of those Gothic door knockers, or Alice’s Cheshire cat. Of course, if he is not there, it is an indication of peril ahead. We tiptoe in with caution, wondering what awaits us within – a hill of poop, a cushion torn to bits or mayhem in the kitchen. Once the day is done, of course, and we are seated within our blankets in the lounge, Bronn decides that it is time for him to hit the sack as well. 

Credits: Deepti Menon

Hope lies eternal in the human breast, goes the quote. Just as little ones grow up, it is to be hoped that this one does so too and evolves into the majestic Labrador that he is meant to be!

And one day, in the future, pigs might fly!

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