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A Furry Angel

Dear Papa,
Baby BeatleOn Monday evening, Beatle had a tough decision to make, to stay with us or to move in with you, and he chose the latter. You must’ve been surprised by his visit, he’s there to stay with you, your little boy, your true companion. He has been a good boy, an ideal one, just how you’d like him to be. Now you take care of him. You two draw the perfect ‘master and his dog’ frame.
After you left, while he was barely three, he had a tough time. For us, we could’ve fed on each other’s support, expressed, and communicated. He couldn’t. We had to manage endless rituals, medical settlements, your office and work closures, and various other things that kept us busy. He, he was in grief and was now without his master. He knew no better. For him, there was no support and no one to pamper and play with no more. Garima + Ashish and Sonu Bhaiya + Bhabhi had their own struggles with supporting the family while Mishika and Armaan were on their way. Mummy, she has been a different person ever since, she misses you. I took Beatle under my wing and he was my kid now. We both needed each other. You can imagine the rush of people visiting for ceremonies and grieving sessions. Beatle was lost and Beaticonfused. He was depressed too, like all of us. Now one who’s down and hurt needs love, support, and attention, and he was the youngest of us all. But, since visitors feared him, he’d be locked up. A kid asking for love and attention was rejected. He never complained. The one trick he knew to draw eyes at him then was to pick someone’s sandals with a smiley face and a wagging tail, only asking to play, but no one would understand, he was at times yelled at, hit too, only for asking his due kiddish playful minute with the family, his own family, or the visiting strangers. He was rejected and pushed away. He didn’t complain. Finally, the chaos was over, and here was a little puppy, lost within the walls of his own house, amongst his own family, where he belonged, the only place he knew.
He was never the same after though. He was depressed, and fearful, even though the clouds over our family returned to normal. You could tell from the look on his face. Even when his name was called, he’d be seen sitting somewhere with his head hanging low, as if he was to be scolded again. He was shattered, and so was his confidence. He’d approach everyone hesitantly, drawing a fine line between what was his natural behaviour and what was imposed upon him by us. He stayed low, a tad depressed, and lost, in thoughts, and in confidence. He couldn’t be open Beebliheartedly, happy, playful, and careless, how he should’ve been. He still, just like you’d wanted him to be, was an ideal good boy. A sane, calm, matured, saint-like demeanour was his identity. So don’t be surprised if he jumps from joy like a 2.5 years old puppy you remember leaving him behind at your reunion. After a very long time he’s meeting you, being himself without inhibitions, the excitement is obvious. In dog years, he has stayed away from you for nearly 50 years. That’s more than anyone amongst us have even stayed with you.
Growing up he developed medical issues with his heart, stomach, and testicles. Consistent skin issues kept him uncomfy. Shaving him bare dropped his confidence and self-esteem on the streets. Surely the street dogs must’ve bullied him and made fun of, like kids in school would do. Sonu bhaiya and mummy took very good care of him, just how you’d have. He eventually lost his sight, sense of smell, and hearing abilities, and kept bumping into things like the puppy he was. It was cute and sad in its own way. He stayed in his own and was happy that way. With me, he retained his kiddish charm, he would play, pick things, be protective, and own my small bed as if it was his. And on some days, he was a matured adult sitting in the sun watching the world go by. May be he, much like me, would think how his reunion would be with you, the goodfeels would cheer him up. He was my heart, and now he’s Beebgone. Even when he was ill, he didn’t create any troubles for anyone. Two daily meals, a few walks, and a few strokes of adulation were his daily asks. We human can’t survive just on those, your little one did. He was a warrior, and a big source of calm and happiness for me.
I’ve always maintained, you and Beatle were the two pillars of my life. And now you two are gone to a better place, in each other’s company, ideally how I’d like to imagine you two. The best dog in the universe rests with the best father and master in the mighty heavens. You’ve been alone for six years now, and he was the best mate you could’ve had. You’re one lucky man. How I wish we three could be together there. With you two gone now though, I’ll have to relearn how to live, for whom, who to dedicate my victories to, what and who to look forward to. Glad I have Arundhati at least.
He has been exactly how you’d be – disciplined, giant + kind hearted, respectful, caring, and commanding. He hasn’t ever destroyed or broken anything. He adopted Mishika, Armaan, BebeRusty, and Gracey like his own family. They pushed him, took away his share of attention and adulation, at times disturbed him too, but he never lost his calm and remained a matured guardian instead. When the two new puppies would take away his food he wouldn’t even display a fibre of anger. He has slept on cold marble floors in Delhi’s unforgiving winters while Rusty and Gracey cuddled carelessly in his bed. He would come to me, and sleep on my bed, than to retaliate and claim his ownership. While out on a walk, street dogs never disturbed him and he would mind and enjoy his own walk. They all guarded him and stood  up for him if ever a foriegf canine even looked at him. He had his back sorted. Just how you had the entire society on your side, supporting you with due respect and faith, he was your your furry, stout, mini version at that. He commanded his regard with his actions, not with his words, yelling, or shouting, just like you. He will forever be my first child.
Papa, you’ve been with Beatle for three years and I for six. After you, he was all my support. My mornings won’t start with coffee but with seeking his first sight. My homecomings were wrapped in desperations to hug and kiss my lovely boy. His smell was my perfume and his broken hair on my clothes were a part of my identity. One day, while trekking in Nepal, away from him and home for over a month, I found his hair in my pant’s pocket and I broke down remembering him. Eventually, the trip was cut short only to return to him sooner. All my achievements have been for you, and now they’ll be for your duo. I’m content you’re there to take care of him now, the best embrace he could have rested in. He has been an angel in a furry body. He was a rockstar. No dog will ever replace him. A corner of my heart is reserved for you and one for him. Even his sudden demise has a undertone of happiness, all Beebeebecause he’s coming home to you. Take care of him, he needs it.
Beatle, I’ll miss you my boy. You’ve been my support system and reason to be at home. You’ve turned me from a boy to a man, taught me to nurture, be selfless, matured, and strong. You’ve inspired and made me stronger. I may not have shown it but you meant everything to me, in or outside of our home. In papa’s passing away you were my only company and support. You made it easier than it seemed. Thank you my boy. I wish I was there to hold you through your last few moments. I also wished you were here when I got married. I understand that you would’ve stayed too if you could, but our time here is short. You stay well buddy. Take care of our old man, give him all our love, stay by his side, he’s growing old just like you. I’ll see you there soon.
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