EFML: Remembering Ginger

 I met Ginger and Pepper 6 years ago in November on my first visit to my in-laws' place in Mysore. I'd always loved dogs but had never had any of my own, and these two instantly won over my heart. Ginger was in the prime of her life, a brown indie with soulful eyes and an insatiable need for belly rubs. I was initially skittish around her, but gradually I let my guard down. She would excitedly pounce on me the moment I stepped in, and after a couple of minutes of running and jumping, would promptly plonk down at my feet asking for a belly rub. I delighted in petting her, in the deep rumbling noises of contentment she made, and the happy licks she gave me. Pepper was around the same age, a border collie mix with the softest fur and the sweetest temperament, and she greeted me with the same enthusiasm. Spending time with these two dogs was always the highlight of my visit to Mysore, and I always thought of them as part of my family. Although I did not know then, my time with Pepper was limited. A year later, he developed a tumor, and six months later he was gone, despite all efforts to save him. I had beautiful memories of Pepper, but I still felt his loss so deeply. I treasured Ginger all the more after this and made sure to spend time with her whenever I visited.

Ginger was a dog who knew her mind. Whether it was belly rubs or her favorite food, she always asked for what she wanted. Like me, she had a sweet tooth. She could smell jackfruit a mile away, and it was one of her favorite foods. Weirdly enough, she also loved hibiscus flowers and vegetable peels. I would often joke that she was a dog with the healthiest eating habits I'd ever seen. She would also sit under the table and beg for scraps at mealtimes. No one else indulged her, but I could never resist her innocent eyes. Whenever I was around, I always managed to pass her a scrap or two, careful that I wasn't overfeeding her. She and I both took equal delight in this, and I had a very soft corner for her.

Over the years, as she aged, she mellowed down. I would be greeted by a slow walk instead of a run, and the jumps vanished entirely. Her eyesight got weaker too, and sometimes she would get scared when people came in suddenly. But she was still happy whenever she saw me, and the feeling was always mutual. Most of my visits were just a couple of days and even then, I had to work and take meetings, and I regretted that I could spend so little time with her. I decided to try having her in the room during meetings. I was a bit worried that she would bark or run around, but all my fears were unfounded. She just lay down and barely moved, except to give me an occasional lick or two, and I reciprocated by stroking her. Somehow, by just being there, she made everything seem so peaceful, and I loved this extra time I got with her.

This year, I could really see her aging. She slept a lot, and even when she was awake, she seemed a little tired. Despite this, I never thought we would lose her soon. Life surprises us many times, and I woke up today to hear that Ginger was no more. The shock of it hit me like a whiplash, and I just could not believe it. I learned that she suddenly collapsed yesterday, and died in a matter of minutes before they could get her to a doctor. I wondered when I had met her last, and if I had told her how much I loved her. The sad part was that I couldn't remember. I had barely visited Mysore thrice this year, and each time was a couple of days or lesser. As always, I wished I had more time with her. Six years had gone by in a blink. She had done so much for me, and asked so little in return. I am still struggling to come to terms with her loss, but I am also so grateful for these six wonderful years.

Dearest Ginger, I'll always love you. I'll miss you so much every time I go to the backyard or the terrace of that house, and I'll always look under the table for you at mealtimes. But I am so grateful to you. These were some of the toughest years of my life, and you have helped me get through them in ways you'll never know. Wherever you are, beautiful dog of soulful eyes, I hope there's always someone to give you your favorite belly rubs and jackfruit. I hope we meet again someday. Until then, thank you for all the joy.