End of the day

 The weather was misty wearing a veil to shroud the morning's beauty. The sun was still under the blankets of foamy clouds. Kallu lay coiled up under the huge banyan tree which had spread its giant boughs in the blue expanse of the sky. The winter had frozen his blood and he waited for her warm touch to thaw his shuddering bones. I drank his blood happily as he didn't have the nerve to move even to scratch his brown fur. My breakfast was lavish today. In one of the chocolate dark folds of his skin, I feasted at the expense of my host.

She was late today. Maybe, the wintery mornings were holding her back from bringing Kallu's breakfast. Every morning she dawned with a pet pug by one arm. It was a royal parade, the pug flaunting her. 

She would stop to feed Kallu, the stray mongrel, some biscuits and cool water. She would kneel down next to him and with gloved hands scratch him. Kallu in response would wag his tail and grunt in satisfaction. The biscuits, the touch, the lady and her genuine affection would all be the same. No variety. No welcome change. Yet, Kallu relished all of it as if things were happening just from yesterday. 

Kallu was born on the streets with a litter of five and I have been with him since then. A pup left at the mercy of nature now ruled its pavements. The banyan tree had been his home for quite sometime as age crept up his joints and weakened his sight. This kind lady had been his savior when he lay dull and moaning under this woody stock. On certain nights, I felt my canine rescuer would not see the next morning. But like a stubborn warrior,  he gathered courage to see the daylight and the lady's glow.

The pampered pug objected to her this gesture by growling in the throat yet he had no guts to openly challenge Kallu given his tough musculature and sharper canines. Appearances though deceptive protect you from known calamities. In this case, Kallu's past robust record had no other dog disturb his sanity.

Both were dogs but both had a different fate. One was chained by love while the other free from any commitments. One brushed and scrubbed to shine clean while the other scratched and pricked in response to a flee like me. Both had been blessed with four paws but one was always carried in luxury cars while the other raced behind these in a bid to win nothing. 

Anyways, why I should be complaining or lecturing that isn't my bloody business. What crossed me this morning was the treatment Kallu was bestowed upon. Today, he was neglected. The lady had not arrived. I could hear Kallu's growling stomach. Unable to bear the atrocities of hunger, Kallu pressed himself firm on the ground and trudged himself to the nearby garbage bin. Fiddling through some plastic bags he found some fungus laden bread minus the butter. In a few mouthfuls, he was done and he then retired back to his guarded place. 

Thankfully, my stocks were restored. 

This continued for a week, and the lady was conspicuously absent from her daily ritual. Fear of starvation crept over me every night as I watched the old dog's labored breathing. Yet, every morning he woke with a limp and found some thrash to contend himself. God was great for he had ample for all of his produced samples. Why men compete for a morsel of food is an extraordinary mystery? Again, why should I bother. 

Days snailed by and one bright morning when the sun had succeeded to popp out of the misty blankets, the lady arrived. A gloom spread on her face. She merely kept the biscuits and water near Kallu and left. No scratches. No pats. She left as quickly as she had come. The pug was absent. Maybe, too lazy for the parade today. Now everyday the visits began but the touch was missed. Kallu only licked the biscuits and went off to snooze after he found the treat as mere food.

'You Moron mongrel, don't be foolish!'

I wanted to yell into his ears.

'Food is a basic necessity. Like those foolish humans don't make love your saline!'

But who would listen to a blood sucking flea like me. My bloody reputation had swallowed me.

After days of indifferent behavior, the lady once broke down in front of Kallu. 

'My little Pugsy is no more. How could he leave me all alone and empty? You creatures just can't get enough of us. I hate him for loving me so much!'

Oh, so the pampered brat had died of some luxurious ailment. Good, now Kallu would have all the pampering and brushing. 

Hey, but that's dangerous to me! I would be kicked out of my house by the vet, my faithful house of ten years. 

'No, no don't fall to this trap buddy. This banyan tree is our home.' 

I tried convincing my host. But he was not even responding to the lady. To her sobs and rigorous scratching, he didn't stir an inch. 

WAKE UP BUDDY. I screamed.

'Madam, the dog is dead. The van is on the way to pick up the carcass.'

A well-wisher advised my kind lady. 

OMG! What was he saying-DEAD? DOG IS DEAD? Buddy, when you could survive the unfair weather, what made you give up when your fair friend finally arrived? 

That dreaded morning had finally dawned when I would be laid to rest with my host. A traded relationship ended. A decade of feasty meals ended. Only folly of my good, molly friend was he survived on love when food alone was enough. Such sentimental mistakes take you to the grave. With misty eyes, I could see the clear weather and the hazy future. Foamy clouds of 'love me all life' had cleared.

The morning was end to our day. Kallu had began his silent parade to heaven.