A bluish sky, inviting the rays of the sun made the glory of the day. It was a wonderful Saturday, announcing the blossom of Easter and a bright and fulfilling April of 2016.
The abrupt and breathless words of my niece dazed me.
“Uncle, uncle, I’ve got a puppy, I’ve got a puppy…he came into our old house.” Her enthusiasm welled up an inexplicable surge of emotions inside me.
“My father used to stay in the old house, on the other side of the road during weekends and he found him at the side of his bed that very morning, wondering where he had come from.”
He was a little puppy with blissful and silky fur, and he brought a smile to our faces. However, I knew that he had been lost and his owner could soon claim him. Despite passing on the message of “a lost puppy” in the neighbourhood, even after one week, no one came to claim him.
The whole family was delighted to have him, and he was so playful with everyone as if he had taken birth at our home itself. His beautiful light brown eyes made him attractive and I held him in my arms just like a baby. At night my mother placed him on the sofa and asked him to close his eyes which he would obey, eventually falling asleep peacefully.
He would wake up early in the morning and would “assist” my mum in the kitchen, making the morning tea, impatiently waiting for his piece of bread and butter with a slice of cheese which he relished.
One day, while he was running, my brother accidentally stepped on his legs. His loud and piercing whimpering made me almost fall off my bed. But the pain was soon mitigated by the soft hands of my mother.
In May, I baptized him “Nounou” while my mum preferred to call him “Garson” (boy in our native language). My niece found another name, “Moumoush”. He was called names out of love and affection.
Nounou always accompanied me in my backyard garden. While I was busy weeding the garden and taking care of plants and vegetables, he played in his favourite spot, the left-edge corner of the garden. He accompanied us when we used to harvest bananas further away in the field behind our house. Often, my mother had to hold him just to prevent him from being too close to falling banana trees as he could hurt himself.
Nounou had been with us for five months and we couldn’t imagine a day in our life without him. In November, the summer season gracefully ripened the litchis, tinting them in magenta. At night, I had to guard the two litchi trees against robbers and by instinct, Nounou got to know that he should guard them. Together, we enjoyed a peaceful night with the twinkling stars like eternal companions.
One night, Nounou got entrapped by the net used to cover the litchi trees for protection against bats. I could not take him out and I quickly got inside the house to wake up my mom to help me out. Luckily, he made his way out without our intervention, God only knows how he did that!
During the day, while sitting beside him on the stairs, I held him by my arm, feeling his silky fur while the sun mingled our shadows into one. My mother gave him his food three times daily while my niece “stole” sausages and gave him without letting her mother see them. He was pampered with all types of cakes without forgetting his favourite Marie biscuits.
By the end of the year, Nounou looked more beautiful and his eyes glowed in the rays of the sun. He had the bad habit of running behind cars and cyclists. Perhaps he liked this and made fun of it. He was never involved in any mishap of any kind. However, this action made me fearful that perhaps one day he could hurt himself while running on the main road.
At dawn, he entered the house and would soon fall asleep in the living room. I used to have omelette and cheese with bread for breakfast. The smell always woke him up from his deep sleep and his eyes fixed towards mine said only one thing, he wanted a bite.
One day in my backyard garden, Nounou uprooted a flowering plant which I had just planted. For the first and the last time, I shouted at him. Later, I realized that he could not decipher between a weed and a flowering plant. He just wanted to give me a helping hand by uprooting weeds.
“Have you beaten, Garson” my mother asked.
“Can I beat him?” I asked with a guilt-stricken face.
I presume out of anger or sadness, he did not eat but my mother was successful later in cajoling him to take some bites.
Nounou became the centre of attraction for everyone, especially my tuition students. My students passed by him at ease and without fear. Perhaps his strong connection towards me and his unconditional love for me made him aware that they were my students.
In November 2017, I was admitted for 18 days in the hospital, recovering from a hematoma surgery on the left side of the abdomen. During that time, my brothers regularly started the engine of my off-road vehicle in order to maintain the vehicle in running condition. But that sound meant something else to Nounou. Being accustomed to that engine sound made him believe that I was at home and he would run as fast as he could to the vehicle, but he would not find me.
On the hospital bed, I felt a shadow beside me, of the same form as Nounou. In my dreams, I saw him praying to God to make his master return home as soon as possible. Then at that time, I believed the thing that dogs really pray for their master.
In February of the following year, I saw a laceration on Nounou’s body caused by his chain. My mother and I sent him to the vet. It was a deep laceration and the wound had to be cleaned thus he had to be anaesthetized. As the vet gave him a sharp injection, I held him with one arm and in a few seconds, he went into a deep sleep. The wound was cleaned, and he was cured.
Days passed by quickly and there was no sign of Nounou, but we hoped that he was playing around. But in a week’s time, we found him. While going to the supermarket my sister saw him lying in the corner of the pavement and rushed home to get my brother and my mother to fetch him. The greatest fear of my life saw life at that moment, I saw my mother and brother carrying him in a large piece of cloth. He was no longer in that joyful state. He seemed lifeless. Dead. I was afraid. Nounou had been hit by a car earlier that day.
I lay lifeless in front of his body, tears rolling down my cheeks submerging me in sadness as I remembered how on a Saturday he made his way to our home and on another Saturday the road prevented him to make his way to his home. I felt weak, unable to say a word but kept on admiring him for the last time while reminiscing all moments spent with him. His body was not cold and stern but was warm as if he was still breathing and sleeping. My tears made their way to his body as if supplicating him to be on his legs and play again. His eyes would not close as if indicating that he wanted to see his family for the last time.
We had Nounou’s burial beside his favourite spots near the banana plantations in my garden. The hands that lifted and caressed him now had to drag soil onto his body. Who knew that the land on which he used to run would one day take him in an eternal refuge. Two days later, in my dream, I saw fluorescent lights rising from Nounou’s grave and ascending to the sky. This perhaps, was suggestive of transmigration to another form of life or the ascension to the heaven of dogs.
Nounou now shadows my gardens, my litchi trees, my banana plantations, my family and my existence. He is now free to rejoice eternally in my heart through my memories.
Read – Into the Light – A Short Story by Priviledge Masimba Chisumbu, Zimbabwe
——-
The Writers Space Africa(WSA) Magazine is published by a team of professionals and downloadable for free. If you would like to support our work, please buy us coffee – https://www.buymeacoffee.com/wsamagazine
