Bruni

In January my dog passed away. Well, Bruni was Einstina’s dog. But sometime over the last four years she became my dog too. 

As a kid, a dog chased me when I was returning home from the bakery. I had to barter bread for freedom that day. So in late 2022, when I met Bruni for the first time, I was still really scared of dogs. She was almost 8 years old then and her hyper-energetic, crazy-dog phase was behind her. With her it was easy to overcome my fear. Every time I met with her, I just knew she was just happy to see me, tail wagging and almost drooling in anticipation of a treat. 
Einstina and I would often have to spell out T-R-E-A-T because Bruni was listening and Bruni was a food-loving Labrador. Even if she had just eaten and you were yet to finish your food she would come to you, paw at your leg and look at you with those puppy-dog eyes like, “Please give me some food, I have not eaten in days!” Those eyes would always melt my heart. We had to quickly Google, “Can dogs eat…?” and deliver the food to Bruni.

Bruni was not a big performer of tricks, “shake hands” was all I ever got her to do. I guess it was mostly because she was a proper Kanglish dog and my English talk would just not cut it. Talk to her in Kannada and she would listen. Threaten to bring home a “chikka-nayi” or puppy and you would get an angry bark back, then you can use that as an excuse to hug her and pacify her.

Bruni’s most endearing ability, especially for my religious parents, was her ability to wait and stay put while a pre-meal prayer was recited. The prayer Einstina wrote as a teen seemed to work best: “Oh Lord, we thank you for this food, we thank you for all the blessings we have received. We pray for all the dogs without food and shelter, please provide them food and shelter. We pray for our health, Lord. You, be our Healer. In Jesus Christ’s name we pray Lord. Amen” The Amen was the cue to spring up and just devour the meal in as few bites as possible.

We would often tell Bruni, “Patience!”, to get her to eat slowly, but I don’t know anyone who was as patient as she was. She was so patient with lazy-old-us and so patient with herself despite the pain of her hip dysplasia. Even at the end, when she slipped and fell, and was in all that pain she would patiently wait to go out to pee and poop so that she didn’t trouble us.

Guess this is why I hate aging. I could see her getting old. I saw her slowly deteriorate. She got slower, she was tired and didn't want to play anymore. Her mobility was strained and her vision became poor. 

A thousand things remind me of her, her tennis balls, her leash, her stuffed toys or how she came and just lay on your feet when you were stressed out. But what I really miss is coming home to her, entering the door and immediately beginning a conversation with her, asking her if she was a good doggie while waiting. I miss Einstina making up songs to sing to her. I miss the reassuring sound of her snoring peacefully…

The house feels quieter now. It’s perhaps harder for Einstina and her sister because Bruni was there through all the down times. Sometimes I wish she had just woken up when my dad tried to wake her up at the cemetery. So that she could be like a flower-dog with a basket in her mouth at my wedding. 

Bruni was almost 11. Bruni was a good dog.