Posted: May 5, 2019 in STORY

Years have passed since I last saw Rex’s adorable face with sharp eyes and tiny irregular teeth. He was a white Pomeranian cross, this meant he was just a spunky, affectionate ball of fluff , sans the distinct Pomeranian barks, that can wake the dead from the grave. And for that we must thank his mother, for choosing the right partner to bring Rex into this world. His mom, Sweety was a typical Pomeranian dog, with her temperamental issues and her “I am Pom, I am white, I am pretty, get in line” attitude. She was tiny but with the most vicious teeth, she even tried to bite me a few times  when I was still a kid. But yeah, she gave birth to one of the finest pups and so I could always overlook her flaws.

Unlike his mother Rex was down to earth, playful and so very loveable. My aunt got him when he was two months old, along with his brother Roy. As a kid it would amaze me to just watch them come gleefully running toward my aunt, as she would call them to come back , after they had been let loose for their “go-do-your business” time. She would call them by their names,  Rex-Roy, Roy-Rex and no matter where they were and what they were doing the call was enough to get their attention, unlike kids these days who don’t budge from their E-gadgets. Sadly when Roy was 2 years old he passed away, a bone got stuck in his throat and unfortunately no one could do anything about it.

My aunt got other dogs, but Rex remained my favorite. To this day the sight of him standing on his hind legs while my aunt gave him a bath remains etched in my memory, as if it were saved in AWS cloud. Scrubbing him with the locally made “Kasturi” soap would bring out the natural snowy white color of his fur, and the his wiggling of excess water and thus splashing it across our faces. of course, in just matter of minutes he would get rolling in the mud and the snowy white would turn into a muddy brown. Nonetheless, it was magical.

 He would accompany me, whenever I visited the nearby orphanage to play with kids. Curious dog loving kids would ask me his name,  I would say “Rex” and some of them couldn’t pronounce it right and  would repeat “Rusk, nice name” “Come here Rusk” , I would silently  watch Rex, running carefree, smiling, playing around  and occasionally looking out for me. Sometimes he would leave me on my own and go on his extra “meet-my-friends” rounds.

During the mating season we hardly let him loose but he had plenty of escape-tricks up his sleeves to be tied down the entire season, he would wiggle, roll or even bite his way out of his collar, and if that didn’t work out he would use all his strength to run away along with the leash. With his white fur, he would obviously outstand in the gang of other male dogs and I assume had better chances with the ‘ladies’ of the dog world than the rest of them. There were times when Lalithakka, our maid had to go the Kinnigoli market to get Rex back. I would go bonkers worrying about him every time he ran away to Kinnigoli, 2KM away from house, chasing his lady friend.

My aunt’s neighbor Carmen aunty and Johnny uncle had a cream colored female dog called Julie. I am not sure which breed was she of but with her trimmed tail, small button like eyes, well built body she always looked like the meanest dog to me. The one thing Rex feared in this world was Julie. When Julie was still a pup,  Rex and Roy showed their male dominance by biting her and  that’s probably the reason Julie hated Rex, well at least according to my aunt. Also, I had heard from a few grown-ups that Julie couldn’t bear any pups, and maybe the frustration of it all contributed to her hostility toward Rex. So, whenever Rex saw Julie he would, quite literally, run with his tail tucked between his legs and hide, happily giving up every bit of his male ego. However, there were times when Rex would stand his ground against Julie, needless to say it was only when my aunt was around because he was sure she would chase Julie away and he wouldn’t have to do a thing. Sometimes when I saw Julie around, I would search for Rex and if he was nearby, I would shout “Run Rex, Run”.

Like Rex even I was scared of Julie, she would come close to me, sniff me and give me those “I-am-gonna-get-you” look which made me  almost pee in my pants with fear. Every time she would come to our house following Johnny uncle she would start sniffing and pee around like it’s her own house. And then occasionally visit our balcony where Rex would  be asleep without a care in the world, 4 legs up in the air, slightly snoring ,she would attack him and leave a mark or two. Then my aunt would have to heal Rex back to health. He was not big fan of the ointments or tablets, then again who is.

I still remember the day we had been to a 7.00AM mass, it was my uncle’s  death anniversary. When we left, Rex was tied up on the balcony and when we came back Rex was lying in the pool of blood with wounds all over his body. That day my polite aunt lost all her calm and gave an earful to our neighbors,  even I wanted to go and hit Julie on her head with a big stick until she dropped dead. Rex had a tough time, but with my aunts care and love he was cherished back to health in no time. Following  this began the “missing-days”. He would go on his rounds to meet his new ex-girlfriends and would be away for nights together while my aunt worried to death.

To me, he was always my knight in shining armor though, whenever my aunt was away in the evening, I would bring him into the hall and lock the door until my aunt returned.

Time passed and one fine day Julie passed away, it was the happiest day as far as  Rex and I were concerned, our common enemy was finally down. Not sure what happened to her and I didn’t bother asking about it either. Rex however seem to have sensed it,  because only a few days later Johnny uncle came complaining that Rex had been  to their compound and peed on the flowers. I was giggling listening to it; darn Rex had some guts.

His last days weren’t great, he was partially blind and could hardly eat. Rex was 15 years old when he passed away. One of the bestest dog a 9-year-old could ever ask for. I don’t have his pictures but the moments I had with him are still fresh in my mind, like a just bloomed rose. It’s impossible forget someone who gave you so much to remember.


Please Note:Above story is edited and reformed by one of the bestest editor I know :). Thank you

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