By Peter Slacko

I had a dog named Gymie. I have thousands of memories of Gymie, memories that will never part with me. I still remember the day when I brought Gymie home. From a distance people thought I was carrying a ball of cotton in my hand. He was a mongrel, pure white in color with furry hairs all over his body. I called him the world’s loveliest dog, and he certainly was. Instantly he became a part of our family, though my parents were a bit reluctant in the beginning as they were afraid of all the hairs, cleaning and the maintenance that is required while training a pet. I thought otherwise, but when they saw Gymie for the first time, when they looked at the cuteness of his face, they melted at once.

Gymie had his way of charming others. Within a few days, he became the favourite of the neighborhood children. People started visiting our house every now and then, as if we had a new born baby. Children were always looking forward to playing with him every evening. He had this unusual game where he used to become a mop whenever a piece of cloth was thrown at him. He was always attracted to a hanging cloth and would jump at it to snatch it. His favourite game was to hold the cloth in his mouth and loosen his body to become a mop. He wouldn’t learn any other game—I tried teaching him to fetch a ball a million times but he would only catch the ball in his mouth and would never return.

In the beginning he used to wake me up at night for nature’s call. I had trouble teaching him to attend to it by providing him a regular place to go. Then slowly he fathomed and remembered the place in an open area outside our residence where he could attend to nature’s call.

It was always heart warming to see the face of my favorite pet. Whenever I returned home from a long journey, he would welcome me with the utmost pleasure. His eyes used to speak and shower me with love, and his tail would never stop wagging. He used to behave in a strange yet lovely manner and showed affection to me by jumping all over me and licking my face. I would respond equally lovingly by kissing his cheek and rubbing his head.

No matter how big his opponent was he would always try to intimidate it by barking and chasing it. It was really an unusual sight to watch a German shepherd getting intimidated by my Gymie. Once I saw an Alsatian and a Bulldog retreat when my Gymie charged at them. We used to joke that they would gobble up Gymie in one lick of their tongue and yet he made them retreat like cats.

One day Gymie went on a wild chase with a group of wild dogs and never returned. I wasn’t in town and I have no idea where he went, leaving me with only tears to shed.