A pug. Representative image.
In spite of the ‘no pets’ rule incorporated in the by-laws of the residents’ association, two of the tenants are nurturing pets.
Of late, one of the four-legged creatures was sighted by various residents of the condominium. No one spoke about it while I broached the subject at the association meeting. “Isn’t there a rule against keeping pets?” I asked. “Why, what happened?” my neighbour Geeta at once turned her eyes on me. “I saw an elderly gent leading a bulldog in the vestibule. He is a new tenant, from the looks of him.” Geeta laughed and reassured me, “Auntie, it is just a harmless pug, nowhere near a bulldog.”
“But it has a ferocious face, an angry, crumpled stare like he has escaped from hell,” I insisted. Geeta herself made a face and turned away from me.
Anyway, pug or bulldog, so far the animal has been pacifist, and I have let sleeping dogs lie.
The second four-legged creature has been an occupant on the first floor for more than three or four years now. I cannot believe a cat can lead such an incognito existence for so long unless it is a mythical one sent by heaven to report on cruelty to animals. I have not seen the cat with my own two eyes, but the owner insists that the problematic cat is no problem at all. Rather, it is everyone’s favourite in her house.
At this point the owner told me the cat was a he and not she, as I kept referring to it in the feminine. How could Tom stay confined and cribbed, never seeing the daylight or the world, unless he was a secret agent from heaven, I wondered. The watchman had sworn he had seen no cat prowling around the garden, dismissing my idea that the creature prowled in the night. Cats are by nature prowlers, and this could be no exception, was my take.
The owner narrated, “The cat came to us as an accident victim, auntie. It lay in a ditch, and my son rescued it and carried it home. Ever since then, the poor thing has been with us. It cannot move except for a few contracted stretches inside the room.” She demonstrated the cat’s moves. I took note of the compassion in her voice for the voiceless creature and was ashamed of my own hard-boiled approach to the animal world.
We have heard stranger accounts of man and animal undergoing extreme distress and privation. Compared to such travails, this nameless cat seems to have it all on a golden platter. A loving hand that feeds it and cleans up the mess it makes, a nice cosy bed to cuddle in, and never an angry word to disturb the invalid’s peace of mind.
A tinge of envy, did you say!