After two trips to the airport, Dylan finally made it home to Guwahati. In the first instance, the guy missed his flight. We got to the airport just 20 minutes before the flight was to take off (blame it on Delhi's chaotic traffic that day), so my sister, who Dylan was travelling with, had to leave him behind. It wasn't a very pleasant experience for two things: the poor chap was only half sedated, and he had too much motion sickness. By the time he got back home, well, Dylan actually jumped out of the window of the Maruti van which he was in. Thank God, he didn't try the stunt on a busy road.

So, his next chosen date was yesterday by the 10 am Jet Airways flight. I had gone the previous evening to a vet in Hauz Khas to arrange for his anaesthesia but, unfortunately, the doctor and his team were leaving town for some conference. But he gave me an alternative, 'cos it was unlikely that I would find any doctor opened at 7:30 am on a Sunday. So he demonstrated and taught me how to use the needle. With that, I got a syringe filled with the liquid sedative and came home thinking how the hell I would ever manage to do that. Looking at the long needle, my legs felt wobbly.

That night Dylan had a field day. I fed him loads of his favourite chicken meal and he turned the house topsy turvy as I unhooked his leash for the night, as against his usual 3/4 hours. Must have thought why I was suddenly so lenient. I wanted him to enjoy his last night in Delhi. And he did full justice to his freedom. He threw all the things that were on the dressing table and kept scratching the mirror at his own reflection. Then he kept running from one end of the room to the other giving me friendly bites as he ran past. Then he tore the newspapers lying in one corner. Next he bought a plastic cup and managed to bite the sides. Last, he piddled just outside the loo but inside the house! Finally, he hopped on to my bed, tossed and turned by my side, then left for his room and slept a quiet sleep surrounded by the cushions.

I had set the alarm for 7 am inorder to be dead sure I was on time, this time. I noticed he didn't immediately get up like he normally does when he hears the creak of the door. And even when I playfully woke him, he still was groggy. Somewhere I thought he wasn't ready to go. But I fought all emotion, fed him and took him for a long, long walk. At 8 am, my neighbour, whose big vehicle I had arranged to take Dylan, came; I saw the anaesthesia-filled syringe and cringed. But since it meant saving Dylan the discomfort of travelling, I mustered enough guts, managed to identify the area between his hipbone and buttocks and pricked him! I did it without much drama.

The best part is hyper Dylan was only calm and far from feeling sleepy, after that dose of anaesthesia. He even chased a dog before I carried him into the vehicle! And all the way to the airport, I was hoping, the dose doesn't wear off fast and lasts till the plane touches Guwahati at least. I didn't want to knock him out so I had chosen a small dose.

And my worst fears came to light. On reaching Guwahati airport, Dylan tore open his cage and almost grounded work at the airport for a while as he ran helter skelter, up the conveyor belt, down the passage way -- to the horror of the security men and the plight of terrified passengers. My family who had gone to take him said he finally was swooped down by three men who caught him by the collar and handed over to my sister, not without a terse, "He could have been arrested." I just hope the airlines doesn't sue us :) But laugh, we all did!

I have been telling this story to all and sundry -- at a lunch birthday party that Sunday, and to anyone and everyone. Gushing about my dog is something that comes naturally now, but as somebody said, "not the generally considered appropriate behaviour in intelligent adult company... In this age of irony, sentiment carries the ultimate stigma."


Anonymous said...

Indira, this is a hilarious account and one of the best blog-pieces I have read anywhere.

Of course, all this happened. But y'know what? That film-course you may undertake will change you... you have a knack for a gripping narrative. I sped past this blog-entry, absorbing every bit... Not many writers can do that. And filmmakers can do that for a wider kin. Hats Off! That is an absolutely hilarious account... :)

- Kunal

Indira said...

I can't tell you how much I am missing him... It's crazy and sad!

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