Now that the Coronavirus in India has permeated and affected all human activity that form a part of our daily routine, it is interesting to note that even animals are not like their usual selves anymore. With their sixth sense, it’s easy for these creatures to tell that all is not well. The ever-present stray dogs and cows, a prominent neighbourhood fixture, have almost disappeared. And then, what about house pets? I suppose dogs are the worst affected because they can’t have their daily walks on account of the curfew. Perhaps online book shopping could point me in the right direction and throw some light on how to deal with this situation.
I wonder what these animals would have to say, if they could only talk. It is more than certain they’d blame us totally for the mess that the world is in today. Ah, well! Let’s leave it at that. But even if animals can’t talk they sure know how to communicate with you through their actions. Once I’m done with talking about the pets I used to have in Muscat, I think I ought to buy ebooks online and see what they have to say on the subject.
Anyway, let’s get back to my pets I had earlier when I was in Muscat. I used to have about 3-4 cats that lived in my back garden. The shade from a tamarind and neem trees made the garden a cool and relaxing place for the cats to lounge around, frisk or gambol and get up to all their cat antics, or otherwise just laze in the sun.
While the others were a casual, indifferent lot, there was one who had a rather curious way of showing me how much she loved me. Annie, yes that’s her name, was a beautiful creature, with a grey stripped, fluffly coat. When she did what she did the very first time, I couldn’t tell at first what her real intention actually was, so I scolded her. I suppose she felt hurt that I had rejected her present, so she went and sulked in the far corner of the garden. But the next day she brought me another present just like the first one, and laid it at my feet. I noticed it was a sparrow, more stunned and scared than hurt. But just to be on the safe side, I suppose, the poor thing kept its eyes closed and stuck it feet in the air, above its chest, as if it was dead.
Annie was offering me a live sparrow as a token of her friendship. She had a knack of catching a sparrow, and then holding it ever so gently in her mouth before bringing it to me. And the look in her eyes seemed to say: “This is a special treat I’ve brought just for you”. After she’d retreat to her special corner, the stunned sparrow would recover after I’d given it a quick bath, and would quickly fly away to the safety of a high bough.
Once I’d done this a couple of times, Annie seemed to get my message and stopped giving me her love presents. I suppose if you should decide to publish your book you can write about my Annie or your Annie or someone else’s. Pets are pure love, aren’t they!