smokey

They say Dogs are God's angels sent in disguise to protect and love us; can't agree more to this. Our angel passed away a month back today.

To be very frank, Smokey wasn't really an angel. I used to call him the devil's mutt. If you were to put down a list of the top 10 million most disciplined dogs in the world, he wouldn't have even featured in the next million standbys. He loved attention and unlike any other dog, he demanded it through not the most friendly actions most of the time. He was unruly, temperamental and quite out of our hands. From vomiting on beds to taking a dump on carpets to peeing on mom's sarees; he did it all. He tore my mom's nose apart, punctured my dad's finger, chewed numerous of my glasses, tore my brother's books, snapped at least once at every person who met him, bit each and every one of my ex girlfriends (this one for the good; should have trusted his choice more than mine) and in a gist raised hell all around him, wherever he went.

Smokey was not a perfect dog; he wasn't meant to be one. He was a part of our family; a son and a brother. He wasn't our dog, but we were his humans who he accepted and took for granted as his own. He did every little aggravating thing that a rebel teenager bursting with puberty would do and performed every action that an annoying little brother would. But he loved us to the bone and always made us realize that even if it were through his own devilish little actions.

To my dad, who he was the closest to, Smokey was his shadow. He woke up, slept and ate with him. He snarled and growled at us if we ever imitated hurting dad. He welcomed dad back home every evening as if he was seeing him after eons. For my mom, he was the body guard who followed her around through out the day, ensuring that she never felt alone when none of us were around. To my brothers, he was that younger sibling who they could irritate all the time. They troubled him when he ate and when he slept; made sure that he doesn't stop fuming and barking when they were around him. Like every other younger brother, he would go hide behind dad demanding security when my brothers went over board with their antics. For my friends, he was the entertainment at home that a boring friend like me couldn't offer. He partied with us till morning everytime we brought the house down for a celebration.

For me, he was a dream that took 15 years to come true. I never spoke to him heart-to-heart or he never came and quietly sat with me when I needed someone; but he distracted my mind every time I needed him to. He would wrestle with me, would bring his toy bone to play fetch, would get his collar telling me its time for his walk, would jump and yelp when football and girlfriends took his deserved attention away. He was my dinosaur, an extinct breed of a companion and a fighter, who doctors had claimed wouldn't survive after seeing his condition the first week of him being home.

Smokey wasn't the perfect dog, we never wanted him to be. But he was the perfect son, someone who me and my brothers would never be and the best sibling the 3 of us could have never found in each other.

Smokey was like a hurricane which lasted in our life for 4 and a half years. A liver infection claimed him a month back today. He passed away in his sleep on the bed between my mom and dad, which was also his favorite place in the world. The hurricane left us with a calm after the storm which none of us will probably ever get accustomed to. As a friend said, the worst thing about dogs is that we outlive them and they leave us with a gap that no one can ever fill. Really makes me think that heaven sure must be a place owned and run by dogs, eagerly and patiently waiting to welcome their humans with more love then they have ever felt even in their after life.

Our neighbor and a very close family friend, whose family was Smokey's godfamily and were as close to him as we were, made a video for him (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vmef3QCShFw). This 8 and a half minute video is a tribute to him that nobody could have ever given. It encompasses every little bit of what is mentioned above and much more about our lives with him. Smokey rests today at our friend's farm, which was also his 2nd favorite place in the world.

For Smokey, I want to believe that you can read this and you know how much we all miss you. I know you are in a better place and I really hope there are enough plastic bottles to chew on where you are right now.

I miss you a lot my little Dinosaur, you will forever be in our lives.