Doggy Handles

Doggy Handles

I have a dog…an English Springer called Beagle (named not after the beagle breed, but after the Beagle Boys of Uncle Scrooge fame…cos he’s black and white like the prison shirts they wore in the comics of yore).

Over a period of time however, he’s called Beegie out of affection and convenience and that somehow seems to have become his official handle now… in any case, I don’t think doggies know the diff between real names and nick names.

I was talking to a friend this morn and realised that their dog, Scamper who’s around the same age as Beegie has gone down the same route and in the process, has become Scampi.

Talking with my friend about our doggies and their name change reminded me of the time I was posted as an instructor (trainer would be the equivalent corp term) someplace in the 90’s.

We had a Chief Instructor who was very ‘prim n propah’ and more Brit than Ind…and was also very keen on ensuring everything and everyone was on the same grid (or same page, as they say in the corp world). Never let an opportunity go by where he could talk about Officer-like-qualities, the right form, the Army (read Brit) way of doing things, etc.

Now one day I went calling on him and his spouse. Rang the bell, presented my card to Man Friday, adjusted my tie and waited. Soon enough the lord and lady of the manor arrived at the door and welcomed me.

In I went, made PC about how lovely the Drawing Room was…smiled admiringly at the Lady and asked the Lord to give me a whisky and soda.

Drinks arrived, small eats too….and PC continued.

Soon enough, the conversation steered towards dogs…when the CI realised I’m a die-hard dog lover. He immediately took off on telling me about his lab called Pluto. A 30 minute monologue starting with where and when Pluto was born…how he grew up..which school he went to (just kidding!!) and so on. The main issue was that Pluto was just about the best mannered and well trained dog in the whole wide world…cos he had been brought up by the g’man just like he brought up his own kids. He didn’t believe in allowing household pets to be brought up by the household staff and so on. So, I began getting lessons on how to train dogs and ensuring total obedience, etc,etc…..essentially by ensuring that if I wanted a good dog, I had to be a full time, hands on, dedicated master. This wasn’t a job that could be delegated.

Being an upwardly mobile fellow in those days, I fixed an interested look on my face and interjected the monologue with the customary ooohs, aahhhs, wows and so on at suitable spots…as would be the professionally and politically correct form in such a situation.

A bit later, theory got over…there being only so much one can talk about training and bringing up dogs…… and it was time for practicals.

“Koi hai???” yelled the CI.
“Hukum” came a reply with another Man Friday (or maybe this guy was Man Saturday) coming into the room simultaneously.

“Bahadur Singh…Pluto ko le kar aao”.

“Hukum” was the reply to this directive as Man Friday # 2/Man Saturday faded away.

Within a jiffy however, he was back. And with him was this young, strapping, noble looking lab. Mr Pluto, Esq, I presumed.

Well, I presumed right. It was indeed Pluto…judging from the pride on the Brig saabs face and the very proprietary ‘I (and not that fellow) am the L and M of this house’ look on the doggie's face.

“Come here, Pluto” said the Lord of the House.

“F*** off” was the silent reply he got from the Dog of the House….as in, he didn’t budge an inch.

The CI repeated his command. The doggie repeated the unbudging lack of movement.

This scene was played out a couple of more times.

I could now see the g’man looking embarassed and the dog looking bored.

All this talk about impeccable manners, well groomed discipline and seamless obedience was seeming like a lot of hot air. I mean if the dog didn’t come when called…what were the chances of him jumping off an aircraft or volunteering for a high risk hostage resue mission?

The CI then changed his tactics. ..and followed the typical senior Army officer process for such a situation….he asked Man Friday/Saturday why the dog was behaving (or rather, misbehaving) so.

“Pata nahin, Saab, theek toh tha abhi tak” was the reply.

The Brig saab explained to the johny that nothing was theekh and that the canine was doing the dumb adder role when called.

To illustrate his point, he did the ‘Come here, Pluto’ thing a few times again..and the dog helped him out in this illustration by continuing with the steady Rock of Gibraltar bit.

The johny looked perplexed and then decided to take matters into his own hands. He obviously didn’t want to be brought up on a charge of dereliction of duty by being party to an act of wilful disobedience by a dog.

He enquired of his superior officer if he could try out out the ‘calling the dog’ drill.

He got an affirmative and immediately positioned himself in a battle ready position, took a deep breath, looked the doggie in the eye and said ….. “Paltoo. idhar aao”.

Paltoo…..sorry, I mean Pluto..went bounding to the johny and sat at his feet dutifully.

Lol !! It was a sight to see..the Brigadier saab’s red face, the johny’s beaming smile and the doggie's proud ‘I did it’ look.

So that's it friends… it wasn’t about obedience ..it was all about the dog’s handle. Poor CI saab never realised it had got altered/changed/modified over time because the Indian Army jawan relates to Paltoo and not to Pluto...and the dog responds to whoever spends most time with it!!