Xerox came into our lives in February 2016 after we lost Psycho in a bizarre accident.
Being the person I am and as happens whenever I lose one of my four legged friends, when Psycho headed off to his happy hunting ground, I was totally distraught. Muskan, having concluded that the sudden void in my life needed to be filled up and having hunted around, located a Pug which had littered and voila! The little fellow, no larger than the palm of my hand whom she brought home being an almost duplicate copy of Psycho, with not so much as a second thought acquired the moniker of Xerox.
Playful as any little pup would be and believing himself to be a Goliath, Xerox was
constantly harassing and taking on the others in the family whom he likely assumed to be the ‘Davids’ – Dusty and Echo our two Labradors and Shadow, a street (Indie) dog who only months before had been literally foisted upon us by Madhav. Our son having brought him home with a lofty pronouncement of ‘this is my dog who I am leaving with you for a couple of days’. The ‘couple of days’ at last count having stretched into 9 years ended up with ‘his dog’ becoming one of the family. As is the wont with dogs of that indeterminate breed, Shadow, besides being a wanderer, was also naturally aggressive.
Xerox was all of six months old when I, one night on returning from a barbecue dinner in the club, had carried back a doggie bag of 4 succulent (I presume that is what they would be) pork spare rib bones for my canine friends. Expecting that little Xerox would take a long time nibbling away at this treat, I gave him the first bone. Before I could take out the next one from the carry bag Shadow, likely having decided that it was he who was entitled to the first, pounced on Xerox, grabbing the little tyke by the nape of his neck. Having turned to face the others after giving that first bone, while I did not see the ‘attack’ it was a loud yelp which made me spin around to look at the little fellow who, after that squeal, was nonchalantly ‘looking’ in my direction. One glance at him made me recoil as though I’d been socked in the face. The little fellow’s right eyeball had popped out of the eye socket, so that the whole orb was visible while the left one was hanging limply at the end of the optic nerve which was still somehow attached to something inside the hollow socket.
I’m far from being a nervous person but at that moment I totally lost it. Scooping Xerox up into the cradle of my arm I ran into the house to call Madhav who, on one of his regular jaunts up to the hills, I knew was still in the club partying with Muskan and her friends. While it’s all more than just a little hazy I have been told that, while almost hysterical, I was able to get my message across to M&M to somehow reach out to at least one of the doctors in the veterinary service we are fortunate to have in the Nilgiris. My friends tell me that I drive fast and while I don’t believe a word of it, that night I know I did just that. So fast that enroute to the WVS I felt that I had hit something on the road which my vehicle then flew over. Hours later when driving back and with my nerves having calmed down, I realized that the remains of a large porcupine plastered across the road, was the ‘speed breaker’ I had gone over heading in the opposite direction.
By the time I got to the WVS, Madhav and Muskan had actually managed to wake up mobilize the vet who, having quickly examined the little patient, explained to us that under the circumstances the only treatment he could think of, while it was obviously very drastic, was the only option available to him. With Xerox showing no signs of any discomfort, the right eye which had popped out was literally pushed back into the empty socket. The other one, dangling at the end of the optic nerve, was altogether another matter. Having snipped off the optic nerve, the folds of the top and lower skin were stretched and brought together to be stitched over the empty socket. Looking on, all of us including the doctor, were amazed that while undergoing that obviously painful procedure, there was not so much as a peep from out of his brave patient.
Having been mildly sedated, cradled in my arm, Xerox slept like a baby. On waking up the next morning it was almost as though he had not gone through anything untoward. As active as was before the occurrence, he was running around, though banging and ricocheting off walls and furniture much like the marble on a bagatelle board. While it took our little Cyclops a couple of days to work out his bearings and chart his way around the house, not once did he flag, getting on with his life nonchalantly and without a care in the world. His recovery was such that a couple of months down the road he would happily accompany the other dogs on my daily long walk up the hill.
