You Will be Missed

When I read 'My Family and Other Animals' by Gerald Durell, I never drew a comparison with my own family. I was 11 at that time, and therefore highly stupid.

Today, with a little less stupidity, and some more exaggeration, I tell new friends that my house was a a bit like Durell's house growing up. Everybody was mad, and our madness was extended to the animals around us.

Its basically my mother's fault if you really want to blame someone. No matter what she may say, she is a die hard animal lover. . Who else can spend a substantial amount of money (despite their addictions to clothes and shoes) on animal purchases, vet fees, disgusting pet meal grocery shopping, freezing, defrosting and feeding?

The fact that we had a couple of dog and cat majnoos (lovers) in the family also didn't help. The fact that we had a father who grew up with a dog majnoo mother also didn't help. The fact that one elder sister later developed pet dander allergies slowed the tracks to some extent; but the fact that their little brother was always game ALSO failed to help.

So, are you ready? My extended list of 'adopted' siblings includes: 5 dogs (2 Alsatians, 2 Labrador twins, 1 Russian Samoyed), some 30 parakeets, at least 5 chicks that nearly turned into chickens before the dogs throttled them, some 100 rabbits and their progeny (most of which were chased and scared to death by our dogs), and 3 cats (who usually slapped around the dogs contemptuously. We have home videos to prove this upside-down darwinism). I have not included the 20-30 'neices' that some of our female dogs gave birth to because they were often gifted away to similar dog manjnoos that my sisters found in their friends. Perhaps they screened out their friends with this very criteria.

When we were toddlers, my mother kept goldfish in the house and turtles in the lawn. Till one day our turtles were quietly stolen. After that, my mother must have figured that she preferred investing time in more vocal pets.

Sadly, like all living beings, our pets had to go some time. Some were given to loving caretakers, who were suspiciouly and thoroughly interviewed ("What would you do if Paro fell in a lake?"; "After how many hours would you alert the Police if Pixie didn't show up for dinner?".) These caretakers were sought out when my mother developed horrible allergies to her beloved Siamese cat, Paro. Some instances arouse out of necessity to save our backyard lawn (or what was left of it) from the digging of a multi-generational rabbit family. Sometimes, it might be to stop their older sister from wheezing her brains out, that the birds were seen off to better homes. Or sometimes, on a quiet wintery morning, it might be our old Alsation, Lassie, had passed on due to old age.No matter what the form of the departure, a departure is a loss. A loss that hurts. It hurts because you won't see a wagging friend greet you with mad love when you walk in the door. Because a pretty mate will not sing out to you the beauty of the day. That an understanding companion will no longer curl in your lap to purr that it'll be okay.

Even though I live far away...I miss the big house our pets created. Our adoring friends. Who licked our tears away when we cried; meowed supercilliously to remind us the world does not center around us; or had screeching, outraged lovers quarrels on our front porch. For us they were real. They were our family.

This weekend... we lost our beloved Russian Samoyed, Feefee. Feefee, our crazy girl who had a bladder problem. Who would pee uncontollably when excited. Who was never unexcited. If there ever was a girl who lived life to the fullest, who smiled and peed everyday, it was our honey: fluffy Feefee.

You were the girliest of all dogs we had. You were a our gori Maem. You were our jaan and I will miss the times when you were dressed up for dog fashion shows. When you wore Nike and Just Did It (Pee) whenever things got too exciting. We'll always miss you Feefee.