Farewell to Roufus, my family’s best friend
For 11 wonderful years, Roufus, our handsome, dashing Labrador didn’t think twice while showering his unconditional love on our family. Sadly, it came to an end as age got the better of him, and he passed away in his sleep.
I can still remember him vividly, his lovely black eyes shining, his tail wagging, the tennis ball, his favourite companion, in his mouth. Whenever he would hear the horn of my jeep at the gate, he would happily bound up to the porch to give me and other family members a warm welcome before following them to the main house. Once inside the house, he would quickly find his pet corner and settled own for a power nap only to wake up to the aroma of freshly baked biscuits, which accompanied our pot of mas ala chai twice a day.But truth be told, true to his pedigree, he would never beg for them. He would just sit there looking dignified and hungry until his drool would prompt us to offer him a biscuit. He would catch it in the first attempt and gulp it down in one go. I have always wondered whether he ever found out how it tasted.
I must say Labradors are born half trained. It is evident from their gentlemanly c on duct. Roufus would accompany me to the farm and enjoy his outing in the countryside, wandering around a bit, but always with a watchful eye on me. I would never have to hunt for him, as he would join me back on the trail once I was ready to head home. A bit tired after a while, he would look out for a water pit in which he would pl onk himself to cool down.
Iwould carry biscuits formy ever-hungry Lab. I remember the time I had to pick him up and carry him to the jeep. He had severe cramps and refused to move his chubby self. Adorably lazy, he was always on the lookout for food. He enjoyed the good life and the luxuries of living at a farm. In love with air conditioning, he would never let go a chance to force his way into the room.
Gentle with the elderly and young alike, Rouf us never had to be leashed. In winter, he would quickly position himself around the bonfire and sit with our farm stay guests, charming them with his lovable presence and beautiful eyes. I have lost count of the times when I would catch him snacking with them in the evenings, and guiding them back to their tents at night.
It’s very difficult to accept that he is no more. I can still see him sitting around in his favourite corners at home. It is hard to think of rustling up a bonfire without him. He lived a beautiful life with dignity, and I am happy he died peacefully.
RIP, my lovely companion. Thanks for enriching our lives for 11 long years.
BUT TRUTH BE TOLD, TRUE TO HIS PEDIGREE, HE WOULD NEVER BEG FOR THEM. HE WOULD JUST SIT THERE LOOKING DIGNIFIED AND HUNGRY UNTIL HIS DROOL WOULD PROMPT US TO OFFER HIM A BISCUIT