The Morning Call

August 6, 2012

You can’t expect to hear good news when you hear the phone ring at 2.30AM. I was expecting the unfortunate news, the call confirmed it. Our seven-year old Japanese Spitz called Jacky had passed away at our house in Kathmandu. Jacky was my first ever dog. Though I left Nepal just more than a year after we brought him home I have so much memories with him. During my stay in Kathmandu back then I found the atmosphere depressing and desperately searched for things to keep me sane and occupy my mind. I over thought and that was putting intense pressure on my parents. My decision to bring home a dog was a selfish one which only dealt with my want. Our extended members of family slowly got used to the idea of having an animal in the house.

Even though I was a feeding ground for the blood-hungry mosquitoes, there was a different relief in sitting outside in the dark after a stressful day. I didn’t speak to him aloud at such times but through my silence I felt he could always understand me. Like a typical dog, he did have a thing about getting a bit too over-friendly. The best moments were shared with my baje and Jacky. Boju always used to say “kukur ra kukur mildaina bhaneko ho raicha” after seeing the constant fights that baje had with Jacky. Jacky was always himself, trying to get in the middle of everything and everyone and my baje strongly detested house animals in general.

My last trip to Nepal felt a little bland, baje was no longer there… I guess I’ll be reliving this experience once again when I go to my house expecting that Jacky will come running up to the gate barking with excitement.