Menoculayshunal; Canine Conundrum

Time to return to the memoir writing. I confess I am still a tad discombobulated from Fear-bruary... and events that rage to the east of here. Add to that the fact that, in many ways, I have been avoiding writing this particular post, and you might understand that herein lay - and continues to prick - one of the intense events of my life. 

Well, due to that very long short month, the 'next week' referred to in the previous post has actually turned into 'in March'! We had reached the point in this tale where Rekha had entered my life - and my room! 

To say she was a character would be an understatement. She had all of her mother, Radha's, good looks and deportment, but a hefty dose of the father's sass, too. She was a clever girl, learning to toilet in the bathroom almost immediately, and she learned to sit and come and shake paw and walk on 'a string.' I kept her isolated for the first three weeks as a health precaution until I could find a vet willing to come to the ashram and provide all the necessary shots (rabies, in particular, that is still endemic to India). That was a difficult time for Radha, who cried at night so plaintively. When she was about six weeks old, I started to reintroduce Rekha to her brothers for play and canine socialisation and for everyone on the ashram to interact. The aim was to have her adequately socialised before the next big festival so that she could be shown off and anyone interested would know the more difficult early stages had been managed already. Dog ownership in India is still very much in its infancy compared to Europe, the USA, and Australia. It is not that there is a lack of interest and love for keeping pets, but the cost can be prohibitive, and there is just not the tradition of animals being anything more than utilitarian. Or an outright nuisance.

Which, I have to confess here, Rekha did start to become. While we were in class, I would leave her with her brothers to play... but she would fuss for me and bark, and then came the day she tried to find me. Dogs entering the study hall is a huge no-no. All eyes turned to me as this wriggly, fast-growing puppy slunk into Saraswati Nilaya. She knew, somehow, it was not on but couldn't help herself. I am not someone who embarrasses easily, but I am sure I was the colour of a fire engine that day. My heart palpitated, and I shook as I realised that all sorts of lines were being crossed.

Cogs turned, the grapevine rustled, and moves were made for Rekha to be relocated. I will not go into all the machinations here; it's soap opera stuff. All you need to know is that preparations were made for two of the gardeners to take Rekha to a 'new home'. All her food and makeshift toys and bedding were packed in a box, her leash attached, and they whisked her away. The look in her eyes as she left in the autorickshaw will haunt me always. The cries of Radha, too.

Here is where the pertinence of the tale of Jada Bharata (two 'episodes' back) becomes pertinent to my own spiritual process. Rekha had, of course, no matter how hard I had tried for it not to be so, dug her claws into my heart. For several weeks after her departure, I was racked with angst. The gardeners reassured me she was well and promised photos, but none ever manifested. My studies became a bit ragged and I had to give myself a really hard talking-to. I had not given up so much to be at Sandeepany to be undone by the one thing we are warned about in Vedanta - attachment to the external. 

All this had an effect upon Radha, too. That dear dog had formed more of an attachment with Rekha after their separation than she might have after. I had therefore interfered with a natural process there. I would mention here, too, that the three remaining male pups had all come to sad ends, in the space of a week. The best that anyone could think was that they had been eating the rats which lurk in the drains... and which quite possibly were carrying poison from those with less environmental sensibility on the other side of the ashram boundary. Anyway, that would have increased Radha's bond with Rekha as well. Once her only surviving pup was gone, she became like a shadow. The B-pack had become dominant and now that she was without pups, Radha was treated in that manner that gives rise to the term 'dog-eat-dog'; it was not until then that I fully appreciated the origin of it. When she was found with her whole flank adrift, some of the little brothers came and found me. What they thought I could do,  have no idea. Except that I was able to ensure respectful disposal of the body on the pyre at the back of the ashram.

This, and a couple of other events still to be mentioned had a profound effect, as you may well imagine. I am grateful to Radha and Rekha for their presence in my life, not just the usual things for being the canines they were, but for the spiritual growth and understanding that would develop from my experience with them.

I honour their memory with all the photos I have - and home movies. I have one that I put together not long after the events described above, which I cannot load up here due to using music I liked but which has copyright. I, therefore, offer those who wish to watch Radha and Rekha at play THIS LINK to the vid, which is on Google Drive.