Dear Caesar

If you had any idea how many times I’ve tried to write this letter for over two months, you’d wonder why I wasted so many mournful moments banging fingers on this poor keyboard and didn’t spend that time doing something more productive – like napping on the bed with legs hanging in the air or bark from the balcony for whatever reason or hoovering a radius around someone whose eating something .... like ANYTHING. After all, that’s what you’d have done.
But I’m a dufus human. And supposedly as an intellectual human being full of corrupted virtues and feelings, I have this soul wrenching need to put my thoughts and feelings on paper in form of the words to emit out to the universe. I guess, barking non-stop for straight two hours could have done the magic but neither I can match the anxiety you feel on separation nor my fellow humans would like it, at all.
So here I am. Saying a proper goodbye. It's not forever. It shouldn't be. Nor, do I want it to be:
You know, I have always wondered, what good things I might have done in my previous life to have you as a blessing in this one. As I go on to wake up alone and spend days without you, I’ve been trying real hard to learn more lessons about “happy-go-jolly-living” from more evolved creatures, like you guyz (dogs). Mostly from the streets now.
Do you remember that first time, when I picked you up in my arms like you are some sort of fragile wax form and brought you home on the back of the bike. You melted right into me like you knew it’s where you belonged or I guess you were just scared and hungry, I don't know. But, of course, you were. Gloomy-eyed, dumb founded and paralyzed with fear. You knew nothing of the world except life in a cage.
Remember those first months after we met? You learned that some of us (especially ones with food) aren't really all that bad. The way you slept some early nights, hiding your head, trying to be smaller than you already were. The way you finally figured out that the whole flat belongs to you too, but only after pissing on my bed for like oodles of time. (BTW I am sorry for snapping at you like that in those moments. I told you, I am a stupid stupid human.)
Slowly, I have watched you blossom into the dog you were meant to be – taking just a few more steps outside your comfort zone, becoming more confident and curious, tail just a little higher, Oh, and of course – that ridiculous tongue flapping all the time.
I got to see your first (of countless) moments of true happiness: biting, slurping and licking my fingers! Always in that sequence.
Among many things, I have learned from you is that joy is a full-body expression! The way your entire body spin like a teetotum when you are happy – which is like every-fcukin-single-day!
You have been a forever happy, forever kind, forever gentle dog. Except that one time when a peacock flew into our flat, and you were like barking, "ONLY IF I COULD FLY". I knew that look! I understood, man. I understood.
I miss you, seezy !
I miss the way you bow every time, I put my head near yours. I miss your furious interactions with other dogs, especially bitches. (Remember that encounter with Apple. I guess we are brothers in that department, huh! Just don't know how to behave with 'em)
What more can I say. I miss your familiar jagged little sigh in the darkness at bedtime, your compulsive obsession (or as I like to call it, deep appreciation) with food:
"What is this, pedigree? Awwwwwesome! What is this, Egg-sses? AWESOME! What is this, grass? AMAZINGGG!"
Pikachu (that's what I wanted to name you first), my heart squeezes to the idea of you not being in my life anymore. But to trade the tears for never having experienced these things at all? Not a chance. We had some good adventures in our time, didn’t we?
And today, as I saw you after two whole months, I couldn't help my eyes going wet and throat a little dry, as you recognized me from a distance. But you made me laugh with all your slurping and canoodling. You are the funniest dog I have ever met. And saying that speaks a lot, coz before you I was terrified, petrified and ignorant to your specie.
I hope someday my reluctant specie will realize just how lucky we are to share the same planet with you all.
PS: And your last meal with me. I poured some some extra eggs in your bowel. It will be our little secret, dont bark and tell Prashant, Abijit.
PPS: I specifically remember this coz I told you, I have been stuck at this for last two months. And I still feel its ....