He had lived with her for four years now. This was the first time that she had gone without him. It had been a week and he could not find her. Will she return?

He sat on the flat seat fitted in to the bay window and gazed at the garden. The sun was dancing over the flowers. The birds were busy pecking at each other. He didn’t feel like running. He didn’t even feel like having his food, which was lying in the plate. If he could speak, he would have blurted out his woe. His sad eyes just kept looking towards the path that led to the house. He knew every bit of that small path, the little crags in the bricks, the small flowers growing in the grass, the ants moving between the stones.

Now, he just sat by the bay window and waited for her. He didn’t know how many days had gone by, but it seemed like an eternity. He missed playing ball with her. He missed her voice and the loud music she played. He would watch the desktop, while she wrote her papers. They would go for walks in the neighbourhood park. He would play with his park buddies and she would read her book. She always wanted to feed him meat, but Mummy would want him to have milk.

Intermittently, he would lower his head, closing his eyes, but his ears remained ever alert. It was a restless sleep, not the peaceful slumber he used to enjoy. At four years old, he had become an integral part of this family, this home. It wasn’t always like this. His mother had died, leaving him on the roads. He was just a few weeks old and someone heard his whimpering near the garbage bin. The man in a shirt and pant picked him up, the tiny thing, shrunken to the bones and had carried him to a shelter home. He grew up there, finding a foster mother and foster brothers and sister. He was the tiniest of them all, his chocolate colour distinguishing him as a mixed breed. They called him Pandy, as he was found near Pandara Road.

Along with his brothers and sisters, he would be fed twice a day. He liked milk but the food never seemed to fill him up. He always wanted more, then he began to explore, his tiny wobbly legs would only carry him so far. He discovered the kitchen. He liked to stay near the kitchen, from where the cook would often pass him something to eat. The cook also patted him sometimes and he liked that gentleness. “You were a wolf once,” the cook would tell him. He just cocked him head, panted and rubbed his head against the cook’s hand. He began to distinguish the smells of food and the gentle pats from harsh kicks.

He remembered when he was first poked with a needle. The sweet gentleman with something on his eyes held him on the table and wham went the needle. He yelped. The man caressed him, telling him that it would stop hurting in a few hours. Fair enough, he was a fit one, he could take this. He liked this man better than the team that played in the ground.

Those boys would yell and scream if they saw him near the field and once in a while he would get kicked also. His brothers also couldn’t protect him, as they would also be pelted with stones.

Then one day, a pretty girl came with two people. He looked at them, his head cocked to one side. And she screamed, “Mummy, this one. He is so cute. I want to take him home.” In a rush, he found himself placed in a basket and put in a car. Her father ran the shelter and she was an entitled one, her wish was always fulfilled.

“We will get him vaccinated,” Mummy said. The little girl played with him in the car. The she put his basket in her room. Her name was Zeenat. She would order him around the whole day. One day, she yelled when he was peeing behind the door. He had also done potty there. Zeenat slapped him and told him to go away. He just sat with his head down. He missed the cook, his brothers and sisters. They were never angry with him.

Then Mimmy came to the house. She was older than Zeenat and she jumped at the sight of this chocolate face gazing at her. She cuddled him and said, “How are you chocolate boy?”. He liked her scent. Their bond was immediate and profound. Zeenat had got bored of him, she did not like looking after him. Their family was happy to let him go.

With a loving touch, Mimmy had won him over, and brought him into her world—a world where everyone thought she was mad. Their shouts of disapproval fell on deaf ears; she was determined to care for him. Each morning before heading to school, she would set out milk and a piece of bread to nibble on, knowing he’d while away the day playing, much to Mummy’s chagrin, who would later reprimand him for his inadvertent sofa escapades. He remained unfazed by Mummy’s scolding, secure in the knowledge that she would return from school, tidying up after him.

Time marched on, and Mimmy completed her XII standard, proceeding to college to study wildlife, as everyone had foreseen. Her field trips became frequent, and often, Panda, as she affectionately called him, tagged along, exploring neighbouring landscapes. But now, she faced a more distant assignment, a national park that he couldn’t accompany her to. She hugged him tightly, reassuring him she’d be back in just ten days. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched her depart, and they had to keep him inside, lest he prevent her from leaving.

Now, he spent his days seated by the bay window, awaiting her return. The passage of time felt like an eternity, and he longed for the days of playful ball games and the harmonious cadence of her voice. He yearned for the rhythmic beats of the music she’d play and the hours spent together. He reminisced about the moments when he’d sit by her side, watching her work on her desktop, her fingers dancing across the keys as she wrote her papers. Their walks in the neighbourhood park were etched in his memory, where he would frolic with his park companions while she immersed herself in her book. She often wished to indulge him with meat, but Mummy insisted on a diet of milk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Mummy or Daddy, or even Nilu, the neighbourhood washerman. He cherished them all. Yet, she held a special place in his heart, for she was his first love, his puppy love—a love as pure and unconditional as only a dog could offer. Mummy’s voice called to him, but he remained immovable, lost in his longing.

Then, a familiar scent drifted into the room, her scent, and his ears perked up, followed by an ecstatic tail wagging. After what felt like an eternity, he began to bark and raced out towards the path. As she paid the cab driver, he leaped onto her, his tail a blur of joy. He sniffed her luggage, showered her face with eager licks, and leaped and danced in pure elation. She laughed heartily and embraced him. She was finally home, his beloved.

She hugged him and said, “How are you, my old chocolate boy?” Her laughter reaching the sky, as he attempted to find his way into her arms.

This post is written for StorytellersBlogHop Season 3 hosted by Ujjwal (https://mywordsmywisdom.com ) & MeenalSonal ( https://www.auraofthoughts.com )