This isn't a love story. This doesn't involve girlfriends and/or boyfriends, or brides and/or grooms, or “forever meant to be”’s.
But this is a story of love - a love that has sustained itself out of a bond that lasted for not more than 24 hours.
Hi. My name’s Shubhankar. What you might be reading further doesn’t have a happy ending, or even a sad ending, or a lesson learnt. It’s just a story of Schwaan and I.
Schwaan - what a lovely chap he was. A golden labrador, little, scrumptious, and lazier than what we’d expected, but lovable anyhow. We’d brought him home - it was Summer - and chose to be ignorant to the fact that my mom was -is - really afraid of dogs. She’s really afraid of almost all animals. I was adamant. We had to have a puppy at home. So we did, even though many advised otherwise.
Now there he was, at home. I couldn't yet fathom there was a Marley living under the same roof as me, playing with me, and for the most part, sleeping. A perfect epitome of a real-life Sleeping Beauty.
The afternoon and evening passed with all of us - minus Mom - embracing Schwaan. My mom had temporarily resided at the dining-table, then the bed, anywhere but the floor. Then came nighttime. Schwaan begin having episodes of uncontrollable excretion. My brother and I stayed up late, cleaning the results of each. We were worn out and had to call our dad to come and stay with Schwaan for a little while so that we could grab some sleep.
The next morning, the tiredness of the previous night was fairly recognizable on our faces. That was when we had an epiphany. We can handle all the love of a dog and his sweetness and his cuteness, but it requires too much work. Therefore, we decided to give it away to a family who could really work hard to keep him, love him, nurture him. A relative of one of my father’s employees was looking for a dog for their family, for their two children. A genuine, loving family. Perfect match. Hardest decision - to let Schwaan go. But we had to.
Evening. It was time. I got ready, packed all of Schwaan’s stuff, picked him up, greeted him to my grandmother before leaving, got in the car, reached my dad’s office, greeted him to everyone else, held his little paw in the air to enunciate a goodbye. As I was walking through throngs of people and commotion, I was holding Schwaan in my arms, wanting it to never end. I was so emotional, I hardly was expressive. Pokerface. We met the man and handed our little one to them.
On the ride back home, I was speechless. No word spoken, no sound made, no reaction given. I was looking out the car-window but I had my sight set on nothing but the melancholic void. It was like I’d given away a piece of me, and a teardrop would almost appear every time I’d think of it, I’d think of him.
The family was contacted a few days later and we found out that the father was working extra shifts just to be able to fully take care of our little one that swiftly became an irreplaceable part of them.
I couldn't have planned this for myself. Being an animal lover, I couldn't predicted I’d be the one who’d give such a cutie away, who wouldn't be able to take care of him, who’d so quickly grow tired by the work raising a pup calls for.
But I’m happy, ‘cause I believe Schwaan’s happy.
-Shubhankar Verma
