Catching A Bullet

I stood still hugging my dog real tight. The council workers had a gun pointed right at him. Fear was taking over me and tears welled up in my eyes. I was trembling and Puppy my beloved dog was growling at the aggressor. I was only 9 years old. I mustered all my strength to hold Puppy down. He was fully-grown, strong and muscular. I could hardly keep him down, but I did my best waiting for anyone at all to help me.

“Get off that dog! Do you want to get shot?!”

Puppy was getting more and more agitated as the council workers took a step forward and shouted at me. I couldn’t say a word. My throat was dry. I felt helpless. I closed my eyes and pulled my dog closer to me as my tears rolled down my cheeks.

BANG!! BANG!!!

I heard two loud shots taken, followed by a sorrowful wailing noise. I opened my eyes immediately. What I saw traumatised me for ages as I grew up. One of the council workers dragged a bloodied body of a stray dog and chucked it in the back of a small truck. Puppy like any other dog feared sudden explosive sounds. His tail went down and he stopped his growling. He sensed that he was in danger and found comfort in my arms.

“We got complains that the strays here are chasing and biting people. Let go of the dog and we’ll clean it up.”

I pulled myself up together and screamed.

“He’s my dog!! He doesn’t bite anyone! Please don’t shoot him.”

At this point, my neighbour down the street heard the commotion and came out to see what’s going on. He knew me and Puppy very well and hurried towards us.

“Uncle! They are trying to shoot my dog.”

(In our culture, “uncle/auntie” are terms used to address the elderly even though they are not related to us).

My neighbour grasped the situation quickly and had a quick conversation with the council worker explaining to him that Puppy is not a stray and just happened to wander off my house compound. The council worker retracted his gun and scorned at me. He walked back to the truck with his partner and drove off. I saw a couple of other dead dog bodies at the back of the truck. I felt an overwhelming anger building inside me. How could anyone be so heartless?

I walked back home holding my neighbour’s hand. Puppy followed closely back with me to safety. My parents were out that day and I was home alone. Earlier, Puppy dug his way out under our flimsy wired fence when he heard a group of dogs barking outside the house compound. I ran out to get him back only to find him at gunpoint. I knew what I had to do. My dog was my life. I nearly caught a bullet for him, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Puppy is no longer with us but he lived a happy “treat-ful” life.

To trace back a little, few years prior to the incident I took in a pregnant stray dog that was wandering around my village. She would walk pass house by house to see if anyone would spare her some treats to keep herself and her babies alive. My family and I fed her twice, and on the third occasion when she came by, we welcomed her into our family. She had the most cheerful smile. She always had this peaceful aura around her, as if she had achieved a state of enlightenment. But when she wags her tail, she wags it vigorously as if the whole world depends on it! Rightfully so, I named her “Vallati” which from my native language literally translates to “Tail-wagger.” I was never the most creative one when it comes to naming conventions.

Two weeks later our new furry member of the family brought us more happiness when she gave birth safely to a small litter of three puppies. Puppy was one of them! I raised Puppy since he was well a tiny, cute little puppy. I called all of them puppies and as they grew up, they only responded to the name Puppy! Hence the name of my dog. See how creative I was? The rest of the siblings were adopted by friends and neighbours when they were ready for adoption. I kept Puppy because somehow, I just knew that the both of us would have wonderful adventures together and we did. His curiosity, his intelligence and his energy became an innate part of my own growth as he continues to live in my memories.