The other Che

Normally, this kind of thing happens when someone you love, dies, but I cannot wait for my dog to pass away to be able to praise him in writing. He was brought into our house after my elder brother got the idea of keeping a pet so that he could get over a breakup. Three years have passed since then, and he has gotten over many a breakups, but both he and I just cant get over Che, our doggy.  Infact it was through my dog that I got to know about Che Guevara, something the real Che’s ghost would never forgive me of- people getting to know about him through dogs!

Che is a black Labrador- very shiny, fat and cute. His lack of proper vertical and anterior growth, and excess of posterior development makes him look like a giant mouse. His looks only help him in getting all the love and affection that anyone, dog or otherwise, could expect to get from us.

Personally for me, he is the greatest source of entertainment. When I come home tired and exhausted, he would make it a point to get me alright. He would orbit around me in funny trajectories which at times would turn into meteor-like. He would then start rotating and jumping around some imaginary axis cutting through his own body. It would be his ultimate mission to somehow reach my nose and to be able to lick it, and once is just not enough. When he gets tired of the aerobics, he would turn docile and start following me where ever I go. At nights, he plays the dual role of a pillow and an alarm clock for me. I generally make him sleep next to me, and put my legs onto him, and he wouldn’t make even the slightest of fuss. But as soon as it is 6 or 7 in the morning, he would start barking and would let me know that it is time to get up!

But he fails terribly in the traditional role of a dog as a watchkeeper. He would treat even the strangest of men with the same love and affection as he treats us. This make me insecure, not about my life and safety, but about his fidelity towards me.

Nature wise, Che is just like me. We sleep as much as we can, and whatever time we stay awake, we like having as much fun as possible. I owe a large portion of the credit of my success in the civil services examination to him. It was he who accompanied me through my nightouts  during my preparation. When I was studying, he used to sit right next to me, not making the slightest of sounds. When I used to go to the terrace for taking a drag or revising what I had studied, he would follow me with all his theatrics.  He would complete all his necessary works during my stay on the terrace, like keeping a watchout at his imaginary territory, urinating and marking the boundaries of the same,  observing the growth of the vegetables in the terrace farm- his future vegetarian food-something that disgusted my dad like anything,  and preying, feasting, and playing around with the innumerous kinds of insects that would be hovering around the tubelights of the terrace. These are the memories I can never forget, and I owe it to him

Sometimes, I think of bringing him over to my district, but I am not too sure. Will he be able to getproper care and attention that he gets at home, one never knows. Anyways, I shall decide upon it as soon as I find my feet in the district.