Oz

By Bhavita Varma

My little Ozzie baby. He seems to have an odd affinity for my chappal. The little idiot even stationed himself weirdly just so he could make my crocs his pillows. He also has an odd affinity to raise his hind legs while lying down if he's particularly pleased with the belly rub he got. A full on stretch upside down along with his little wheezy creating when he's happy are the highest compliment I get. I write all this because I want to remember. I want remember everything and never forget. How much I love his snowy white fur.

And smelling it right after I bathed him in clinic plus and his tick shampoo. As much as I used to dread it, and also be terrified while doing it, I loved brushing him. It was so adorable every time he put his head on a bed and made those eyes at us, especially when he used to look up at you with such love in his eyes that made your heart ache. When he pawed at us, and things and doors in general, it was always either the cutest or the most infuriating thing ever, And how can I forgot his imitation of a shoulder tap to wake us up for his own petty desires. The belligerence in the way he opened a door was always endearing or annoying depending on the situation we were in. I loved gazing at his sleeping body in the room and beautiful he looked even when lying on the floor like a carpet. I loved how I was the only one he allowed to hug him properly and those hugs were all I lived for in the 6 years I had with him. When he was younger, I really enjoyed picking him up in the funny way I did and I really wish I could've done it longer. The way he walked beside when we went on a walk, the way he stood on the roof looking over the house like king looks at his lands, the way he stood at the gate just frantically searching for a street dog to bark at, I never want to forget all of this.

I hope I never forget my fluffy white oddball.

By Bhavita Varma