If Timmy were alive …


… but he’s not.

That spotted Dalmatian-mixed-with-Pointer with a pirate patch around one eye and a black and white living of 12 human years. The brat who sneaked up our quilts at dawn, resting his head on the pillow and kicking us till every rib was awake, with a wagging tail that hurt the shins. The dog who had the remarkable ability to dislodge us from the charpai and plant his behind there, making the winter sun position itself for His Highness’s snooze time. The one who ate every leechi that fell not caring about dire gastric consequences, and made every raw mango that monsoon dropped into our yard his play-thing. There went the ambi ka achaar! He preferred boiled vegetables to bones, and flaunting his stuff every morn tied to the main gate, looking at the beauties walking down Rajpur road…

[To read more, please click here.]

[This post is written for the WordPress Daily Prompts : 365 Writing Prompts program. The author, Sakshi Nanda stays somewhere ‘Between Write and Wrong‘]

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