“The ball turned into hooman, and I still can’t understand how.” That was Simba’s reaction on seeing his new pack member Khushi. They are best buddies today and our Simba would like to tell his own ‘tailz’.
A ball in the tummy
The kick was so hard, I thought it was a ball in my hooman’s tummy. I wondered why she isn’t giving me the ball. Even put my head on her tummy to listen carefully to be certain it was a ball. Already in love with the invisible ball and I would guard it carefully. I stopped pulling the leash, which I would do otherwise to nudge my hooman to walk faster when we went out. She had become so inactive that I couldn’t bear to see! She really needed the walks, more than I needed to do my ‘business’. Hoomans always refer to pee and poop as ‘business’. Their weirdness is beyond funny.
The ball turned into hooman
Coming back to what came out of that tummy, it was a small hooman. I wasn’t very pleased; I was expecting a ball. I even went back to the tummy to check if the ball was still there. But it wasn’t. It was the same familiar scent, but weirdly the ball was replaced by a little hooman.
I was really hoping to teach my hoomans some tricks with that ball, but they gave a little hooman to me instead. You know my hoomans often give me their slippers, remotes and bottles to play with. And I always make them happy by ripping everything apart beyond recognition. A few times they weren’t too happy with my work and looked upset, so I took it a notch higher the next time. I not only ripped off the acoustic guitar but also hunted down and put a rat inside it. You know so my hoomans would be proud of my exploits. So what if I live in a big city like New Delhi, I’m still a hunting dog.
You may like this: Yeah, I chose my hoomans
Oh, so back to the ball – no I mean baby hooman. I keep trailing, my mind is always working overtime. So does my nose, I thought I just smelled pizza. That’s why I went to the front door to check if it was for us. Hoomans always think I’m barking unnecessarily, and they stop me. I was trying to catch a quick conversation with the delivery guy – oh he smells of chimken!
Now I’m happy that the ball turned into hooman
Ok no more rambling. The small hooman, after all, isn’t that bad. She is more interesting than a ball. When she was more little, I used to run away with her diapers – they smelt great, I tell ya. Then she got bigger and started playing with me. We have even gone indoor camping together. But what I love the most about this little hooman is that she shares her chips with me, and I teach her how to paw-five. She is a slow learner, but I’ll keep training her. These days, I am training her to not eat up all the food, even if the hoomans tell her to ‘finish’. She should wait for me to take care of the leftover. Sometimes she even remembers to give me the crust of the Pawmino’s Pizza (read Domino’s). And I oblige her with a kiss. I’m the closest to her. When any other hoomans come close to her, I don’t like it. I give them a good bark and they let us be.
Now I am happy that the ball turned into hooman. We are both foodies. I manage to snatch away all kinds of foods from her – even candy wrappers to chew on. Oh yes, one more thing, this little hooman has saved me from the embarrassment of being dressed in skirts…phew hoomans!
Simba in his hoomans’ words
Simba is a “Beagle to the T, naughty as hell,” in the words of his hoomans – Isha and Suhash. “Don’t go by his innocent looks; he can and does rip apart most things that meet his nose and eyes. And every time he destroys something, he gives us an accomplished look. But he is the sweetest little fella and a big brother to Khushi. Together, they often bring the house down.”
