Monday 19 December 2016

The dog with the bell

Today while I was in our car, my thoughts, without any whim or fancy flew to the days I used to know a guy and his dog with the bell. The dog's name was Bobby and it had a bell on its neck. As the dog walked, the bell chimed and it was like a signal - Bobby and X have arrived! Ah! that there was a special connection between the dog's owner and the writer is immaterial here. Aw! Did I just say that! Ah! well, I just did. I would be having dinner, when the rhythmic sound of Bobby's bell would announce their arrival. I would then squirm, try and hurry my dinner, and jump into the road to join the walkers. Our post-dinner rendezvous punctuated by Bobby's bell. Bobby was a smart dog - he knew the places of affection and love and was a silent spectator to the laughs and undercurrents.

He would walk, sometimes run after spotting a nocturnal creature or find his favourite tree and pee. I knew he looked forward to those walks like us. He was the excuse for our walks and we were the reason for his walks - it was a mutual understanding.

I wonder where Bobby is. I suspect he has passed away and would have found many similar companions to walk with while tinkling his wee bell. I also wonder what happened to that bell. Perhaps it was buried with Bobby or it was just discarded now that there is no much use for the same. As for the owner of Bobby, I guess he is out there doing his own thing and probably owning another paw to take care but I guess he won't need the bell because he is now married with children and he does not have the need to alert someone of his presence. Maybe he might be wearing that bell as a talisman or as a signal to alert his family of his arrival from work, gym, church or just the corner shop.

Memories, very funny, aren't they?

Hope you are revelling in the season of fun and joy.

What are your childhood memories of Christmas?



  1. Your memories of the dog remind me of a No romance here; it's just that I was always amazed by her intelligence. She spotted me among other passers by and walked with me all the way, until my crossing of the road, then she retreated to her comfort zone.

    If I sat down on a bench, she would sit with me or near my feet, and try "to communicate" with me in her "catty language" and behavior. I was in some kind of crisis in that period , so maybe she sensed I needed company and affection.
    If she wasn't present I would call her by the name of Mitzy Miaw and she would appear from some corner.
    And then one day, after two years or so, she disappeared. I was afraid to ask her owner (a shopkeeper) about her fate.

    Whenever I pass by the area (a small shopping area) I remember her and feel nostalgic.

    1. Dear DUTA, that was a beautiful story. Thanks for sharing this piece of you with us.

      Have a wonderful week ahead.

  2. That's a wonderful memory, Susan! Thanks for sharing your story.
    Merry Christmas!

    1. Dear Martha, you are welcome. Stories connect and sustain us.

      Merry Christmas to you and yours.

      Lots of love.



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