My mother’s grandfather was a unique and meticulously
systematic man. He was always dressed in western clothes and a felt cap. He was
tall with fair skin and eyes. His wife loved animals. The couples house, one
could say was like a make shift zoo that included rabbits, dogs, cats, birds
andother organisms of the animal kingdom. My mother’s grandfather on the other
hand especially liked dogs. He had three of them. One called lily a large dog
with soft white fur like cotton. Lily was his favorite dog, one day a snake bit
lily’s tongue and lily died. Besides this he had a German Shepard, and one
mongrel breed dog of brown color. This mongrel was called Bosco.
Bosco was the most notorious dog in the whole of neighborhood,
feared and dreaded by all. Ever since he was a little pup he was unmanageable.
He once climbed onto the wall of a deep well to take a look inside and when he
peered inside he found his own reflection and began to bark at it thinking it
was another dog. He got so aggressive that he wanted to have a physical fight
with his own reflection that he jumped into the well and hit the bottom of the
well head first. He was later rescued by one of great grandfathers laborers
whom we now a days refer as ‘mundkars’.
The nasty dog was shaken but not stirred. He got a little braver.
My great grandfather’s mother in law often sent various food
items on Sundays. Sometimes it would be cafrial or sea shells curry on other
days she would send prawns curry with a humongous fried kingfish. The food was
so good that when the narrow mouthed containers were opened the whole house
would smell of that amazing food and everyone knew that today; their bellies
would be well filled. Like every other Sunday, my great grandmother opened the
container that they had received and left it on the floor on the dining room,
where everyone would sit with banana leaves and eat. She left the room to call
her husband and children to eat. As it so happens, humans were not the only
ones who were seduced by the aroma of that delicious food. Bosco too fell for
it. He was sitting in the yard when the scent of the food reached his sharp
nostrils. Up went his snout in the air and into the dining room he ran like a
heat seeking missile dead on target, unnoticed by anyone like a ninja
approaching his enemy in the dead of the night. Bosco found the container with
the fish curry and devoured the contents and left. Sometime later all the
people came to have food and sat down, only when they were served rice on their
banana leaves did they realize that not only was the fish curry missing but so
was its container! They searched the whole nook and corner of not just the
kitchen and dining but the whole house. The delicious fish curry was nowhere to
be found. None of them knew that it was safely being digested in Bosco’s
intestines. Sometime later as they continued to search they heard whining of
some dog outside. Bosco had in his greediness stuffed his snout so deep into
the narrow mouther container to reach the bottom contents that it had gotten
stuck it in and was not able to get it off. He was running around like crazy
all around the yard with that container on his face. When they tried to catch
dog and help him he would not help them thinking that he would get beaten.
Eventually he was caught and the container removed.
As Bosco grew he began to develop a habit of biting anyone
and everyone who was leaving the house but not entering it. He would sit
quietly in a corner of the house; not barking or getting aggressive with anyone
who came to visit unlike other pet dogs, thus creating a false sense of comfort
and an illusion of being a harmless dog. Sometimes my great grandfather’s
guests would even pet that devil of a dog on the head; little did they know
that they were in for the most horrendous experience whilst they tried to leave
the premises of my great grandfather.
When the pleasantries were exchanged and the guests had been
stuffed with my great grandmothers scrumptious excellent snacks and amazing
ginger tea and would begin to walk toward the gate to leave, Bosco would sneak
up on them silently, like a professional bugler and bite them with all the
might, his fierce jaws had to offer right in the calf muscles other their
bottoms. If the guests were accompanied by a kid he would prefer to bite the
kid, if it were a couple he would bite the woman. No one knew why he did it.
But everyone knew he did it.
By the time he was three years old he had bitten more than
half of the neighborhood. The post man, the newspaper boy, the fish vendor and
numerous others were victims of Bosco’s biting frenzy. Eventually they all
refused to visit the house. My great grandfather had to collect the mail from
the post office every week and buy fish and vegetables from the central market.
One day the neighbor’s 7 years old mischievous spoilt son
who was born after 3 daughters sneaked into the property. He wanted to play
some dirty prank on Bosco. But he had no idea how dangerous Bosco could be. The
boy hid behind a thick rose bush. My great grandmother came out with some food
for the dog and kept the plate on the ground and called Bosco who sat in a
corner and ignored her calls as always. When she went back into the house, the
boy who was hiding in the bushes emerged. He generously emptied a bag of rice
husk and mixed it with Bosco’s food. As the boy began to leave, he did not
realize that the dog was sitting just nearby and his savage eyes were fixed upon
on him.
The boy was just about to jump over the compound wall when
the Bosco ran towards him and bit his behind tearing his khaki pants off along
with his flesh. The boy gave out a sharp chilling scream that echoed throughout
the village sending pigeons and others birds flying away into the sky. Everyone
came running out of their houses to see what had happened. People poured into the property of my great
grandfather only to find Bosco sitting innocently nearby on what looked like a
pair of torn khaki pants and licking his mouth, while the boy was clutching his
behind and crying out in pain.
The boy’s parents made their way into the property to find
their son bleeding and in pain. My great grandfather was shocked. There was a
quarrel between the two families. The incident didn’t end well. The boy, after
this always avoided even looking at dogs and never played anymore pranks on any
animal. The permanent scar on his butt and the mental scars left by the
numerous anti rabies injections that he had to take, had left, a very bad
memory. But that was not all, this incident spelled the end of Bosco’s freedom,
he was now always kept tied to a pole kept in the yard. And only in the morning
and evening he was taken to attend natures call by my great grandfather himself
personally. The only thing he ever chewed on henceforth was the food offered to
him and the iron chain with which he was kept tied. The chain was made of pig
iron and it eventually succumbed to the detrimental effects of the moist
weather and got rusted. One night as the dog tried to fight his chain it gave
away. Bosco had found his freedom once again and ran away.
The village got the wind of Bosco’s escape. It was as if
Pandora had been let out of its box. Everyone was afraid and few people were
seen on the streets. No one knew when the dog would bite their behinds. Every villager
while walking in the streets would constantly turn around as if to make sure if
their bottoms were still in place or if a piece of it was missing. People were
afraid of all stray dogs, since Bosco was a mongrel; almost every street dog
looked like him. Days passed nothing happened. No one’s bottom or any other
part was bitten. It was assumed that Bosco had probably died. It was only weeks
later that when the newspapers began to carry reports of some stray in some
neighboring village was on a biting rampage. From the description in the
newspaper it was clear that the culprit was none other than my great
grandfather dog Bosco. He was alive and doing well, still biting people’s calf
and bottoms.
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| pet dog in picture: Zoey owner/cerdits: Keertana Badarinath |
By
Raghuvir Keni
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