Lulu, our batty dog

One fine morning when three *ahem* young girls, who met in an office as colleagues, were beginning to get to know each other, a strange thing happened. As each of them entered the office at different times, they all made the same observation. A bat-eared, particularly disproportionate puppy had taken residence in the general region of the office gate. He was brown from tip of nose to end of tail, though he did not seem to have more than a bristle of hair on him. His eyes were a matching darker shade of brown. And he had a unique helicopter tail wag, perpetual silly grin and funny skippy lop.

On a lunch walk when he ambled upto us with that grin and fell at our feet with the wild hope of having his belly generously scratched, the belgian in the group broke into loving french and called him lulu and thus he was christened and stuck with the pansiest name in the range of the city (and possibly the country) forever and more. (Thought further degradation befell him when the colony kids decided to call him zero. sigh.)

He became a common reference point and as history has told us (or is it just me?), some of the most lasting friendships have evolved through conspiracy. We conspired to bring him egg and bread. Milk and roti. Doggy sticks and biscuits were bought exclusively. He was even carried to a doctor for his injections. And his bold forays into the forbidden office space were hushed and silently shoved under the carpet.

It has been six months since lulu came into our lives and added drama, intrigue and laughter. He has now grown fairly proportionate as his body has rapidly (and thankfully) caught up with his ears. He seems blissfully unaware that his size has since doubled and will still insist on trying to fit into our laps although half his body hangs out questioningly. He loves to lean on us while standing and puts his muzzle into our shoulder and laps the minute either are within his reach. Even now, once a week, with an uncanny knack, he strays into the office at the exact moment when the boss is on about some important event, his brown tail wagging on the otherside of the glass door, his nose sniffing you out, his smile saying- Look! I found you again!

How can you not adore such battiness and tumble head first into that strange world of an all accepting love? How could anyone have ever contested dogs belonging in heaven? Its the position of man, which I find suspect.