Tommy

Tommy- re-named as his original name got buried somewhere in his past life, never to be known again- was adopted by my very dear friend, Debmita, two years back. He was nervously roaming about in her locality- a perfectly domestic dog, most likely abandoned by his very owners. As she described to me the next day, what had struck her most was the way he sat right on the middle of the road- something that the street-smart dogs, who know better, would typically never do. It was obvious that his exposure to this outdoor world had not been for long- he was tense, vulnerable, and shocked- he clearly lacked the requisite survival skills, and had been through a raw deal- he was in bad shape; hunted down by street dogs, bruised and bleeding.

My friend's initial impression was that he was lost- and his family would be looking for him. She got him inside her porch, attended to his wounds, fed him food; but kept him visibly there for a day/two- seriously hoping he might get noticed and reclaimed back home. In the meantime, she conducted her own inquiries around- if anyone knew about any such family or, if anyone could recognize the dog and where he belonged. I can't recall if she had informed the police- but she did everything otherwise possible for her. Failing at her efforts to locate his rightful owners, she finally took him in. I had felt a surge of pride when she told me so- i knew it was not a decision, it was simply an inner call she had to answer- and i knew she had really wished and hoped she could find the concerned family, and hand him over to them- rather than having to take him into her home. I have always been very proud of this friend, and equally proud of her family- for all the good deeds they are so naturally capable of; for rising up to any emergency so effortlessly- together as a family.

What followed next was an attempt to recover his name, and give him back his lost identity- she tried calling out all common dog-names she could imagine (i offered some leads too!), but he just wouldn't respond to any. Giving up on his luck again, she went ahead and named him Tommy- he now responds well to this name. He is not too young, though not old either- his age, like his name, is not known. My friend still regrets why his ex-family could not just tag along his name/age while deserting him.

As for his temperament, there was bad news in store here- he gave them a very difficult time; he still does, but to a much lesser extent. His painful, abandoned days; however long they had lasted- and maybe even the treatment that was meted out to him in his first home; seem to have done his psyche enough damage for a lifetime. Even as he was recovering, he had started revealing a high-strung, distrusting, and an almost paranoid nature! At the same time, he was extremely insecure and felt a constant need to stick around as close as possible to his new found master- never really granting her her own little space. He came out with extreme, uncalled-for reactions; had no qualms about attacking my friend, digging his teeth at her rather violently at the slightest possible "offense"- whether real or, perceived. The offense could take the form of her hands mildly brushing against him accidentally; and at times he would just imagine her movements to be coming back from behind him to inflict harm.

Over a timeframe, it grew even more adhoc, and unprovoked- and i really wondered if biting was a passion for him- often, my friend, oblivious in her sleep, would wake up to the sudden realization of having just had a sharp bite from him!!! It was impossible for anyone in the family to put a collar/leash around him, so as to take him out without risking others around- here, however, she would strongly disagree with me :)- she always maintains that he has never harmed an outsider or, a guest! Tommy needed professional dog-handlers to give him a bath, and even to tie a leash around him!!!- something i can't imagine in my wildest dreams about Elsa! At one point, i think she even debated with the idea of giving him away to some adoption center- but she could not. I had stopped visiting her place ever since this canine member became a part of their family.

Then much later, she would tell me one day that things were turning around to be a bit better- he had started to reveal a sensitive side too. His bites hadn't entirely stopped coming, though- but they had become quite predictable, less violent, and what helped was you sort-of understood how to avoid getting one!- most importantly, he had come to realize that they hurt! His bites would now be followed by instant pangs of conscience, and a deep sense of remorse- followed by an urgent need to redress all the damage done. What that meant, in his world of nursing, was to instinctively reach out to his master, and generously offer some magical, liberal licking at his inflicted wound!!!- as my friend put it lightly, if she could manage to survive yet another of his bites; she would now have to die of his wound-licking stunt! If earlier she had to be careful about one of his lethal acts, she now had two successive ones to cope with!

We had just about moved to our new home, when Elsa had suffered a bite from a street-dog who had sneaked into the compound. She was having a walk with my Dad- and the other dog had suddenly sprung up from behind, catching them both completely unawares- before things were even realized, she was under attack. She had sustained two deep incisions, and some superficial ones too. While i was nursing her back to health, i wondered what kind of lasting impact this incident would have on her mind- but as she recovered, she bounced back not just in health but in spirits too- and while we still continue to feel anxious whenever she is out for longer than expected, she seems to have so completely left every trace of the horrific memory behind her- and thanks to her indomitable spirit!, she remains overly-friendly and still has this constant tendency of going all out of her way to meet any of her canine friends she happens to spot during her walks! :)