After two months of incessantly combing through the neighbourhood with proverbial fine-toothed comb for an affordable renting apartment, I was finally shifting to one today.
Lugging my meagre bags and suitcases through the cellar to the elevators, I noticed her for the first time. She was standing at the main gate, looking inquisitively at me.
I flashed my most courteous smile at her, after all she could be a resident here and I needed to make a good first impression. I wanted to wait for her response but the carry bag on my shoulder had started to cut into my flesh.
A week passed by in arranging and decorating my new abode and I was comfortably settled in now. I hadn’t had a chance to interact with any residents of the building since I had been spending mornings in the office and all of the evenings and nights at home, working on adorning it with my personal touch. However, moving to a new city with no friends or acquaintances (not that I had that many in total) was starting to take a toll.
On a beautiful sunny Sunday, I noticed her again at the main gate as I was returning from my weekly groceries shopping.
Curiosity taking over, I asked the watchman, “She is too young to be by her own. Do you know her?”
“Madam, her mother died in a road accident a month ago. They used to live just down the road, she is on her own now.”
Something tugged at my heart and genuflecting, I asked her, “Would you like to come with me?”
Her big brown eyes searched my face to discern my intentions. I had a feeling this was the first time someone had taken out time to talk to her.
I took a chance and scooped her up. Registering no protests from her, I confidently marched to my apartment with her in my arm.
She seemed to be very dirty, probably from spending days and nights alone on streets. After taking her consent (she didn’t speak much, but I could sense her response), I started a bath for her.
A good scrub and an hour later, she was all fresh and her vigour had seemed to return. As she introduced herself to my home and its occupants, I fed her milk and biscuits, which she hungrily polished off.
Watching her snuggling cosily in my lap, I whispered, “Frenny, let’s call you that, from Friend. This is your home from now on. You see, I have no one in my life too after I lost my mother, just like you. Let’s look after each other. I will buy some pedigree for you on the way back from office tomorrow. I’m so glad I found you.”
The happy ‘woof’, the enthusiastic tail wag and the cutest grin (that only a puppy can manage) told me what I needed to hear, “I’m so glad I found you too.”
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