Thursday, March 30, 2006

The Biggest Lizard

The Flanagan clan with its god fearing aunts and warm hearted uncles, wild older generation and goody two shoes young un’s, portly little tykes to devilish girls has two things in common.
One : Lizards scare the shit out of them…
No family gathering is complete without at least one discussion on their latest nightmares starring lizards. If Titania dreams of being under attack by a ruthlessly well planned army of lizards then India ‘knows’ that a breed of flying lizards will soon sweep in. Myrine avers that if you stare at them, they lift their ugly little heads and stare right back contemplating jumping on you. Piper has threatened Philip (her husband) that the next time he thought to play any trick on her involving them, she’d be heading straight for the divorce courts. Mars and Mrs. Havisham still shudder when they recall their particularly close encounters with lizards. (Mrs. H and her three kids have spent a good part of their lives in a hot village with lots of little creatures for company. This would be when Titania, Mars and India were between 3 to 11 years old) There was the one time that a monitor held Mrs. H prisoner outside a bathroom and her kids inside a tub as it held court on the bathroom floor. But that’s another story. Suffice to say that with a lizard in your hand you could get a Flanagan to sign away their child. Or at least their house.

The second thing that can set them off is their dog – Cykie. Short for Cyclone. This gorgeous, giant sized Alsatian with the dopiest brown eyes you’ve seen is the most adored dog on the planet.
Cyclone is Mars’ dog. He was gifted to Mars by an old, dog loving neighbour and got home against much opposition. The opposition lasted the first 5 minutes. Cyclone was born to be loved. A fat, cuddly looking cotton ball, he abhorred movement. Mars, his siblings and their cousins spent an entire afternoon wondering if Cykie was deaf because he refused to move. He just looked at them patiently as if waiting for them to realize that he doesn’t want the ball and he really rather sleep. By the time they finally caught up with this ‘Why bark when you can sleep?’ ethos, he had cultivated new ideas.

Everything was his. He must be the centre of attention always. All humans are friends and all animals are enemies.

This last caused as much trouble as pride. While they could gleefully laud how he had single handedly mauled a pack of street dogs that attacked him, they also had to contend with him seizing and shaking a neighbours dog by the throat. He was a great conversation starter. People everywhere stopped to sigh over him and for years the three were known as Cyclone’s owners in the neighborhood. But this was also the single minded dog who dragged India all over a thorny field because a pig had pissed him off and he just had to take a bite out of it. Never mind the chain tangled in India’s sweater.
This force of life, a vegetarian (!!!), music loving zen master was the focus of all the love in a mostly non-tactile, undemonstrative family.

If India had one shadow in her heart, it was the thought at the back of her head that Cykie was a dog and dogs get older faster. While traveling for work, she’d often try to grapple with this fear and then abuse it with a ‘oh.. he’s young yet. Just 10.’ And then a hurried prayer ‘let it happen when I’m not there. Let me be busy. Let me be away.’

It didn’t happen that way. One very normal day, Cyclone vomited while on his walk. It was not out of the ordinary. Mars decided to take him to the vet. India went along. The vet gave him an injection and put him on a ice cream diet – cold liquids were what they were to feed him. Grin. Cykie was going to love this. They rode back home in a rickshaw. Cykie imitated a flying dog the entire way. He periodically pushed half his body out of the rik, ears flat on the side like helicopter wings to feel the cool air. Then he’d dizzily slink back, shove his nose in a corner and cover his eyes with his paws. Only to do it all over again.
On reaching home, he got his belly rubbed while the three discussed changing his food to some special pedigree dog product to avoid colic in future.
He didn’t want to chase the ice cube but no one wondered about that.

Early the next morning Mars and India came back from their jog to find Titania hugging a wheezing Cykie. His stomach had swelled up more. Mars called the vet. It’s 7 in the morning. He isn’t in. India called a friend to get his vet’s number. That vet isn’t in either. Meanwhile Mars gets the vet’s home number. The vet gives a medicines name. Mars runs out to get it. Titania and India sit by Cykie hugging him, pleading with him, please stop wheezing, crying. Mars rushes back with the medication and tries to drip it down Cykie’s mouth. But Cykie’s prone and can’t lift his head. They’re all crying. The vet’s asking them unrelated questions, ‘Is his tongue turning blue?’
Somewhere they know what it means. ‘NO.. NO.. the tip’s still pink, the tip’s still pink’
I don’t know what the vet said to Mars. As they hugged and kissed Cyclone, he passed away.
Mr. and Mrs. Havisham were not in town. They called to talk and in the manner that only elders have of working around grief, brought up burial. He had to be buried. Mrs. Havisham suggested a cousin’s garden. The three refused. India suggested a tree near the river where Cyclone had been sniffing the previous day. Mars checked it out and refused. ‘My dog will not be buried in such filth.’
Finally, the perfect place. Salvatore’s garden. If Cykie had loved anyone as much as Mars, it was probably Salvatore.
Wrapped in a blanket with red and blue bikes racing on it, a 20 year old keepsake from Mars childhood, Cykie went to Salvatore’s garden. They took turns digging the ground. And still wrapped they lowered him in. The memory of his black, brown, golden body covered in white salt with a yellow flower on his soft nose has stayed with India and afforded her a peace she would have doubted when she thought of this day. And India is glad she was there to see him enjoy his last ride. He’s the happiest memory she has.
And another favourite topic of discussion. His acting skills, his willingness in letting Eve, Pearl and Ray maul him, his love for beer, him.. he’s still the most adored dog in the world.
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An excerpt from India’s Sleep Travelogue:

Later that night I slept only to dream of a narrow bathroom. I’m trapped in a corner of it watching the fattest, ugliest lizard. The damn thing is looking right at me. Then suddenly it falls to the floor, scuttles around a bucket and disappears.

8 comments:

iamme said...

That's why I say you're born to write! Miss Cykie...Here's wishing you many more happy memories. Did ya hear it? Cykie just barked in approval!

Anonymous said...

fitting tribute and so apt it sort of brings a smile on my face to think of him.... God bless!!

Anonymous said...

So touching its straight from the heart....

Anonymous said...

it actually made him cry....

Anonymous said...

Yep that happened to me as well! i laughed & i cried. Still miss him!he's still the bestest dog in the whole world!
The more often I read it, the glader iam that you wrote it.

Anonymous said...

he sounds beautiful...it brought back memories of my own dog...and made me feel wistful, nostalgic, happy...bittersweet really...i'm sure all dog lovers will understand...

Anonymous said...

he sounds beautiful...it brought back memories of my own dog...and made me feel wistful, nostalgic, happy...bittersweet really...i'm sure all dog lovers will understand...

Goldbug said...

thanks all and anon. not much i can say.