CHAPTER -8.

When Dawa reached a small settlement in a meadow, on the way to Bumthang, he found a grey do g lying all curled up against the wall of one of the houses. The dog seemed to know about his mange.  On a closer look, Dawa was appalled by the tale-tell signs of mange of the dog like the crusted, raw skin, the pus-filled lesions and spots with blood oozing out, which looked like ripe strawberries. He stepped back in repulsion. The mangy dog commented, quite rudely, that Dawa would also have the same fate in due course of time.

Dawa was crestfallen and his whole body shook as if he was being electrocuted. Throughout the journey, he had mostly tried not to think of the disease. No other dog seemed to have noticed it. Nor did they comment on it as they thought that that was what Dawa looked like. Of course he had to scratch some parts of his body when they became itchy. He even had to bite those parts when the itching became unbearable, thereby causing himself painful and long-lasting wounds. Now to be reminded so cruelly was a hard blow for him and he asked the reason for the grey dog’s shocking behaviour. The dog then broke down while talking about his miserable life. Humans called him all sorts of ugly names. They inflicted more pains on his painful body and chased him away. Even the dogs were no better as they had ostracized him.

Dawa felt deeply sorry for the grey dog and invited him to join him (Dawa) on the journey to Bumthang. The poor dog told him that it was too late as he was feeble and meek. He might die if he had to cross over the pass. He’d rather die where he was. Dawa had witnessed death years ago, but he had never heard a grown-up talk about death before and was touched by the dog’s calm acceptance of death. The mangy dog also advised him to go to Tang fast for the cure and not to make the mistake that he had made.

As the night wore on, Dawa, undeterred, went closer to the dog and tried to make him comfortable with the heat from his own body. The grey dog soon fell asleep. Dawa though did not sleep peacefully and could catch some sleep towards the early hours of the morning. He woke up with a jolt and found the grey dog lying all stretched out, stiff and cold. There was a peaceful look on his face. While he was bidding his final farewell, he heard some voices in the distance talking about the dead dog and the ways to dispose of the body.

Dawa hurried off and was nearing the top of the Thrumshingla pass, when he ran into a yellow youngster. He was surprised at the human way the dog asked obvious questions. The dog asked Dawa to accompany him to Choekor town, giving him the reasons why he should go there first.  Realizing the talkative nature of the other dog, Dawa agreed to follow him. On reaching near the Chamkhar Bridge, the yellow dog asked Dawa whether he would like to go up to the monastery first or head towards the town. While they were walking along the street with shops and houses on either side that made up the town, Dawa felt uneasy under the watchful scrutiny of a host of dogs. He was much relieved when he got to the other end of the street and for the loss of his friend.

Once he reached near the hill atop which stood the majestic Jakar dzong, he decided to climb up using the concrete steps. Every now and then he looked back and down at the beautiful valley. Finally he was on the step that met the motor able road. Instead of going to the dzong, he thought of going to the village. He  was in for a scene and had barely entered when a pack of dogs came running towards him. Some of them due to plain curiosity, others due to animosity. Dawa understood their feeling. When anonymity was the name of the game in places like Thimphu; in a small village, where everybody knew everything about everyone else, any stranger posed a serious threat. They snarled and gnarled and put their heads over Dawa’s neck in dominance. But soon they realized that Dawa was no threat and left him.

Dawa stood where he was, confused. He had barely time to breathe when he was greeted with the next show. This time it was the duo of a black bull being chased by a white fluffy dog at his heels, barking and bawling all the way through. Just behind them was an enormously overweight but handsome dog. They kept on chasing the bull till he shamefully crashed into the wormwood plants growing abundantly into the hillside.

On the way back, the white ball of energy still savouring his great achievement, noticed Dawa and started yelping instantaneously, not knowing whether to greet him or hit him. Dawa found the fluffy dog hugely entertaining.

Only when he was face to face with the big black dog, Dawa felt that the dog had the gentlest, kindest pair of eyes. Emboldened by his kind face, Dawa dared to ask him the reason for him being so fat. Egged on by the fluffy dog, the black dog called Tangpa then told Dawa about his castration. Dawa felt sorry for being so insensitive and the great loss to ‘the line of a perfect pedigree’ as a result of human blunders.

The fluffy dog tried breaking the awkward silence between the two by talking about their owners being vegetarians and the diet of the dogs consisting mostly of some low quality Indian rice and smelly dried fish cooked into a messy lump. Tangpa thought Zarro; the fluffy dog was being ungrateful to their masters. Zarro took offence at Dawa’s remark regarding what he considered to be a ridiculous name and tried to defend his name by saying that it is a foreign hero’s name. Zarro also asked Dawa for his name in return and did not find it uncommon or interesting. In this connection he told Dawa about the ordeal he had with an ordinary looking bitch called Tommy, mainly because of her owner. He also went on to tell Dawa, despite lack of interest on his part or on the part of the yawning Tangpa, that when Tommy was in the crucial stage of her reproduction cycle, her owner had her locked up in a room with Zarro for mating. He even spent the night there in the hope of something happening but nothing happened as both the dogs were incompatible.

Meanwhile both Tangpa and Zarro were called into the house by a large woman, who, having remembered that the dogs were carnivores, offered them some hard, brown squares of  biscuits made in India. Once the owner was inside, both the dogs dropped ‘the tooth breakers’ in the grass and offered Dawa to have them if he so desired. Dawa found them tasty and wanted to know if they really contained some meat, but during his stay of three days, the dogs were not offered the biscuits any more.