If you have a story to tell about a dog, then please do mail me your story. My email is given in the About Us page. Your story will be featured here. Remember that you story must be about a dog. You may also share your experiences with the dogs living in the neighbourhood or in your own house. It could be a pleasant or an unpleasant experience. Were you ever chased by a dog or bitten by a dog? I was once bitten by a dog. Although the fault was mine yet the experience of the canine tooth of the dog tearing through by thigh muscle was not at all a pleasant experience to recollect. It became more fearsome because I suffer from a phobia and that's the injection. More fearsome than the dog bite was the anti-rabies injection. Then I was in Class 5. The dog which bit me was my own pet dog. The reason it bit me was because I was vexing it for long with a toy gun. Now, in retrospect the incident was extremely funny for I was not trained, and my pet dog gave me a valuable training lesson, I still remember vividly that my parents did no harm to the pet dog because it was entirely my fault. That was also a great learning experience and precisely that's why I consider myself lucky to be brought up by such great parents. I am sharing a photograph of the dog. His name was Johnny. The photo was clicked by my grandfather. In the photo you will see another dog seated on the chair towards my right. That was Bhomball.

The white fluffy bundle of happiness that you see above was called Dodo. He was an extremely intelligent dog and my best friend during the most turbulent years of growing up. There's a story behind his adoption. In my native place there is a convent school. The principal of that school had two dogs, one male and one female. Both were mongrels. The female dog was pregnant and about to give birth to a litter. My dad came to know about that and approached the principal showing interest in adopting one of the puppies. The puppies were born, and mom and dad went to see the litter and chose one of the puppies to be adopted. The puppies were still suckling. So, I had to wait. I was very excited to welcome a new member in our family. On the designated day mom and dad went to bring the puppy its new home. They found that the puppy had broken a leg because of an accident. One of its legs was plastered. All the same they brought him home and we named him Dodo. Then started a fantastic journey of brotherhood and friendship. Dodo lived long. He became my inseparable shadow. Both my parents got attached to the dog and he became to them a second son. He was small but very brave. Twice to prevented burglars from breaking into our house. He lived for many years and then one day he became very sick with a mysterious ailment. He stopped eating and wasted away. We took him to the vet but in those days veterinary services were meant mainly for cattle and poultry or love stock. They had very little training about the domestic dog and failed to locate a vein to administer IV fluid. For seven days he survived without food. I requested the vet to do euthanasia, but the vet refused. Finally, he died after suffering for about 10 days. My parents were as much devastated as I was. My mother even today lovingly recollects Dodo and from that I could understand that she is yet to come to terms with the loss. After the death of Dodo, I came to know a horrible truth that there is no process by means of which I could get a proper closure. The carcass of my beloved dog and faithful friend had to be disposed of in a municipality dustbin. My paternal uncle understood my predicament and suggested a way out. He said that I could offer the carcass to the river. A big river flowed through the city. Initially I protested and then the idea resonated with my cultural upbringing. Being a Hindu, I have grown up seeing people offering things to the river Gods and Goddesses. There was also the idea of 'Bisorjan' after Durga Puja which marks the conclusion of the festivities with the immersion of the idol of Ma Durga (Mother Goddess) to mark her return to her husband living in the Himalayan wilderness. He accompanied me and we wrapped the carcass in a packet and dropped it in the flowing river. That was not the end of Dodo for his memories haunted me for many months and we couldn't adopt another dog for years to come. The above two photographs are of Dodo. The first one is with my paternal cousin, Rahul. The second one is a sort of a family reunion marked by the occasion of the birthday of Rohini, my maternal cousin. Three of the people in the second photograph is no more. My maternal grandfather and grandmother, and my paternal aunt have left for their heavenly abode and so has the dog looking up to me. Have you ever been loved by a dog and seen the eyes of the dying dog? If you haven't then you won't ever decipher the meaning of the word 'haunting'. As Dodo breathed his last in my arms, I wished I were a doctor/ vet just to be able to end his pain. I have never ever felt so helpless as I felt at that moment for I was the pack leader, and my trusted pack member was in pain, and I couldn't do anything to stop that from happening. It felt like a breach of trust. It felt like a broken promise. It felt like an absolutely failed leader. Anyway, gradually life limped back to normal, and Dodo remained etched in the deepest part of my heart as an endearing experience and an epitome of brotherhood.

The following are two of my stories titled - Starved Stray and The Dog (Click on the title to read the story). The stories are imaginary. One is set in the present world of the pandemic and the other one is set in a post-apocalyptic world. Both the stories are based on the relationship that we as a species have with the dogs.

A story by Mrs. Pallavi Gogoi. The story is an interesting perspective of a stray living life as it comes its way and making the most of it. The best thing about the story is its warm embrace infusing the most common, mundane and ordinary of an existence with an element of magical and a journey of self-discovery. The story is titled - Kalu.