<p>I live in Mumbai, and we’re in the midst of a heatwave. I’m melting. As my air conditioner valiantly attempts to lower the temperature in my oven-like bedroom to 16 degrees Celsius, I lie semi-conscious, contemplating life choices I didn’t even know I’d made. I recently began exploring a relatively new social media platform, and it’s slowly worming its way into becoming one of my favourite online spaces. So, as my brain slowly melts into a puddle of nothingness, my burning thought is this: What if my dog, Sydney, ran her own account?</p>.<p><strong>Thread 1</strong></p>.<p>@the.real.sydney</p>.<p>The audacity! My mom just ate a full ice cream without sharing even a drop with me. Have any of your parents ever done this? What kind of a family is this? I’m stuck in this heatwave too, you know.</p>.<p>Eating is a group project. I don’t make the rules. I simply uphold them.</p>.<p><strong>Thread 2</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>It’s funny how my humans think I am their pet. If only someone told them that they’re actually our pets. Who’s gonna bite? Come on, Thriends!</p>.<p><strong>Thread 3</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>The truth is, we go on walks, but only one of us knows it’s a walk. I mean...he was on the phone the entire time! Sir, this is not a conference call. This is an active investigation.</p>.<p>Sorry for the rant. I had at least six important smells to get to.</p>.<p><strong>Thread 4</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>So, I have a story. My dad decided to give me a bath today. Normally, it’s my mom. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. For starters, the temperature of the water was all wrong. I tried to show him that it was too cold, but he didn’t get it. My mom came to check in on us and adjusted the temperature, but not before she made it too hot first. So, between the two of them, I experienced all four seasons in under three minutes. (1/3)</p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I think he used around half the bottle of shampoo on me. There were bubbles everywhere … literally floating around in the bathroom. I couldn’t even see my paws. I realised this was going to be a problem, but there was no stopping him. He scrubbed my back and then started to wash the soap off. Around half the soap was off...when it looked like he was calling it a day. Huh? My fur still felt slippery and soapy, but I had a feeling he was losing steam and that he thought my bath had ended. (2/3)</p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I had to take matters into my own paws. This was an emergency. A disaster. I waited for him to turn his back, and then, as quick as lightning, I slipped out of the bathroom door, gliding and sliding along the way. I didn’t even stop to shake off the drops of water. I ran to my mom, jumped on the bed, and put my paw on her. “What’s this?” she asked. “You still have soap all over you!”</p>.<p>Mission accomplished, thriends. I vigorously shook my body — all those drops of water and soap — all over her, and on the bed. This is how we do it. We teach them constantly. (3/3)</p>.<p><strong>Thread 5</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I’m very strategic about when and how I follow commands.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Sit: I sometimes comply.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Fetch: I love.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Stay: I point-blank ignore.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Drop it: I pretend like I don’t understand. No comprendo.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I’ve done this consistently over the years. And yet they don’t get it.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Somewhere between the heatwave and the half-rinsed shampoo, I realise that Sydney does not need her own social media account. She already runs the algorithm in our home pretty efficiently. Maybe this is the thing about living with dogs — they don’t just share our lives, they reorganise them until their rhythms become the world we live in too.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The writer is an award-winning children’s author who loves dogs, children, and books — the order changes daily. Write to her at nalinisorensen @gmail.com</span></p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Paws & Life</span> <span class="italic">is a monthly column that reflects on how our pets shape the way we live, love, and learn.</span></p>
<p>I live in Mumbai, and we’re in the midst of a heatwave. I’m melting. As my air conditioner valiantly attempts to lower the temperature in my oven-like bedroom to 16 degrees Celsius, I lie semi-conscious, contemplating life choices I didn’t even know I’d made. I recently began exploring a relatively new social media platform, and it’s slowly worming its way into becoming one of my favourite online spaces. So, as my brain slowly melts into a puddle of nothingness, my burning thought is this: What if my dog, Sydney, ran her own account?</p>.<p><strong>Thread 1</strong></p>.<p>@the.real.sydney</p>.<p>The audacity! My mom just ate a full ice cream without sharing even a drop with me. Have any of your parents ever done this? What kind of a family is this? I’m stuck in this heatwave too, you know.</p>.<p>Eating is a group project. I don’t make the rules. I simply uphold them.</p>.<p><strong>Thread 2</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>It’s funny how my humans think I am their pet. If only someone told them that they’re actually our pets. Who’s gonna bite? Come on, Thriends!</p>.<p><strong>Thread 3</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>The truth is, we go on walks, but only one of us knows it’s a walk. I mean...he was on the phone the entire time! Sir, this is not a conference call. This is an active investigation.</p>.<p>Sorry for the rant. I had at least six important smells to get to.</p>.<p><strong>Thread 4</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>So, I have a story. My dad decided to give me a bath today. Normally, it’s my mom. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. For starters, the temperature of the water was all wrong. I tried to show him that it was too cold, but he didn’t get it. My mom came to check in on us and adjusted the temperature, but not before she made it too hot first. So, between the two of them, I experienced all four seasons in under three minutes. (1/3)</p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I think he used around half the bottle of shampoo on me. There were bubbles everywhere … literally floating around in the bathroom. I couldn’t even see my paws. I realised this was going to be a problem, but there was no stopping him. He scrubbed my back and then started to wash the soap off. Around half the soap was off...when it looked like he was calling it a day. Huh? My fur still felt slippery and soapy, but I had a feeling he was losing steam and that he thought my bath had ended. (2/3)</p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I had to take matters into my own paws. This was an emergency. A disaster. I waited for him to turn his back, and then, as quick as lightning, I slipped out of the bathroom door, gliding and sliding along the way. I didn’t even stop to shake off the drops of water. I ran to my mom, jumped on the bed, and put my paw on her. “What’s this?” she asked. “You still have soap all over you!”</p>.<p>Mission accomplished, thriends. I vigorously shook my body — all those drops of water and soap — all over her, and on the bed. This is how we do it. We teach them constantly. (3/3)</p>.<p><strong>Thread 5</strong></p>.<p>@ the.real.sydney</p>.<p>I’m very strategic about when and how I follow commands.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Sit: I sometimes comply.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Fetch: I love.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Stay: I point-blank ignore.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Drop it: I pretend like I don’t understand. No comprendo.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I’ve done this consistently over the years. And yet they don’t get it.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Somewhere between the heatwave and the half-rinsed shampoo, I realise that Sydney does not need her own social media account. She already runs the algorithm in our home pretty efficiently. Maybe this is the thing about living with dogs — they don’t just share our lives, they reorganise them until their rhythms become the world we live in too.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The writer is an award-winning children’s author who loves dogs, children, and books — the order changes daily. Write to her at nalinisorensen @gmail.com</span></p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Paws & Life</span> <span class="italic">is a monthly column that reflects on how our pets shape the way we live, love, and learn.</span></p>