Why am I remembering her? Is it her birthday today? If she was alive, how old would she have been? Thirty, or more? Where is she now, and how is she? Sitting inside my office cabin, looking at the words appearing on my computer screen, I am remembering Julie.
I don't know when Julie was born. I don't know what her breed was. All I do remember is that I had been playing cricket one day when I saw her: a little child toddling between wickets as I was taking strike to face a rubber-ball delivery. I left the bat, picked her up, only to make her cry. I brought her home, much to the surprise of everybody in the house.
"She must be hungry. Give her something to eat," I remembered instructing my mother after my granny had told me that the pup was a girl. Not knowing how to react, my mother had fetched a towel and wrapped it around her. A tiny basket materialised out of somewhere, and the little one was placed inside. My granny got a small bowl, filled it up with milk, and placed it next to the basket. Little Julie - her name had been decided five minutes after she had come home - tumbled her way out of the basket and drank it at one go. Then she slept off, happily, under the ceiling fan, outside the basket.
That night, Julie slept with me. I had never been so close to a tiny pup before. So I woke up time and again to check her ears, paws, nose, virtually each part of her little brown body. I observed the way she inhaled air, stared at her when she exhaled. The night she spent next to me made me knowledgeable about puppies overnight.
Julie became a part of my life. I loved her and, I believed, she loved me too. I remember howling like mad when she had strayed out of the gate and got lost one day. She must have been about two-three months old at that time. My uncle had launched a full-fledged search but failed to find her. That night, when we were sitting outside, each of us lost in sadness inside our own private worlds, I spotted Julie. She was near the gate, and trying to enter the house. I ran, picked her up and returned with equal speed, a huge smile playing on my lips. I hugged her, and looked at everyone else. All the elders were grinning away.
Julie was quite old when she left us forever. She must have been 15, I think. She had grown into a short and stout lady who had become an inseparable part of our lives. Today, as I remember her, I am trying not to be sad. You know why? I really feel that Julie wouldn't have liked it.
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