The adventures of snowmen and the dog
WE MISSED HIS INNOCENT PATIENCE AS HE SAT EXPECTING MORE MORSELS OF FOOD. WE MISSED THE WAY HE WOULD CURL UP IN THE LAP
We had just landed at Baggi, a hamlet from where originates a trek trail we intended to take. It was early and the sun was yet to rise. We decided to load up on supplies and water, and partake in some mountain food (read Maggi and chai).
Perhaps it was the whiff of the noodles or the smell of a stranger that attracted mountain dogs toward us. That is when we first met him.
The wolf-like pup with golden eyes and a black shiny fluff for fur gave us hope as he bounced through the snowy mountains, chasing other dogs, burying his nose in the white and eating powder snow as if it were candy.
The ease with which he scaled the mountain and overtook us, the poise with which he looked down and smirked, I envied his stamina. But huffing and puffing, when we reached up there, he was waiting. His charm was disarming.
He walked with us, played with us, ate with us. He slept in our tent, nestled cosily in our sleeping bags; trampling and thawing space before making room in our hearts, forever. He became an indispensable part of our trip to Prashar Lake in the January of 2018.
But he disappeared a night before we were about to leave. We searched high and low but couldn’t find him. Someone said he must have returned to Baggi. But we couldn’t come to terms with it. We missed his cosy fluffiness in the tent. We missed his beady eyes as he followed the sound of every wrapper of snack we opened. We missed his innocent patience as he sat expecting more morsels of food. We missed the way he would curl up in the lap when we sat in front of the bonfire. We missed his unabashedness as he demanded to be petted. We missed him.
He didn’t have one name, he had many. Some called him Doggo, some Mackey and some Chhotu. He belonged to nobody and he belonged to all. He was a dog of the snowy mountains of the Dhauladhars. We loved him as if he were our mate for life. During our brief stay in the snow, he kept us warm, happy and now, waiting. Will we ever see him again? We couldn’t say. Was he safe? We had no idea. But one thing was sure, he was secure in our memories.
It’s funny how we took it for granted that he will be there all through our stay. How selfish. How humanlike. Now that he was gone, there was emptiness; a void that we didn’t know existed. We could only hope and pray that he was safe and warm wherever he was. We hoped and prayed that he was giving joy to someone else like he did for us. After all, he was just a pup.
Next morning, we woke up with heavy hearts, grudgingly making up our minds for the imminent departure. His memories were lying scattered in the tent. How do you pack them and take them along? A guy in a nearby shack was making Maggi and chai. We had just ordered some. The tent entrance was zipped down and the first light of the morning was just creeping in. In walks (guess who) Sir Roam-alot aka freedom caninified. Come here you smug mongrel, you!