A puppy named "Puppy"

She had no idea what “Happy Birthday” meant, nor did the fact that she was one year old make any sense to her. But all the attention she was getting made her like the idea of being the ‘birthday girl’ [everyone kept calling her that]. So, sitting on her favourite uncles’ lap she watched him unwrap the present he had bought her. He tore away the shiny paper that she found very pretty and while she played with it he opened the box inside; and out came a golden and white stuffed puppy.

Of all her toys this soon became her favourite. The fact that it was probably the smallest and the only one she could carry around; might have lead to the favouritism. She would take him everywhere, to the bathroom and give him baths, to the kitchen and try to persuade him to eat the apple she did not want, to the park and push him to and fro on the swing and even to the hospital where she was going to show him her little baby brother.

Somewhere down the line she christened him “Puppy”, and from then on everyone was introduced to her puppy stuffed toy named ‘Puppy'.

It was a bright sunny day; she woke up early to the sounds of the television and wandered upstairs to the balcony where her grandmother had kept the parrots’ cage. While feeding the already overfed bird with little green chilies she saw a man take his dog for a walk. She stood there for a while and watched the dog run from tree to tree and wag its tail and chase a squirrel down the street.
The next morning her mom found her dragging Puppy across the street. The little girl had found a skipping rope and fastened it around her toy who she was convinced was a real dog, and was now taking him for a walk with a proud smile and the innocent air of a child; who was absolutely convinced that she was doing the right thing.

“So, is puppy a boy or a girl?” she sat there thinking for a while then looked up at her fathers smiling face and declared, “Pa, he is a boy; and he is very strong! He will bite anyone who troubles me.” And then she carried him with her to the kitchen to ask her mother to make Complan for him too and not just her.

She got him when she was one year old and was told then that he was as old as she was. She fell in love with that golden and white stuffed toy and the whole childish delusion of assuming him to be a real puppy probably continued for a few years.

She is 20 years old today, and yes, he is really frayed and torn and his nose is missing. The golden fur now looks a dirty yellow but; she still sleeps with him right beside her, she hugs him every time she feels lonely; she cries to him every time she has a fight with her parents she doesn’t want to tell her friends about. She picks him up and dances around her room when she is really happy and excited about something and she wishes him “happy birthday” every year on hers.

To her uncle it was a sweet gift he gave to his little niece. To her parents he was their daughters favourite stuffed toy. To her brothers he was the best way to trouble her by hiding him and threatening to chop off his tail.

But to me, he will always be my “Puppy”.