It is not easy to be mother of someone else's child.......

I became mom to a new baby about a couple of days ago!

Hold your breath! I did not give birth to him. He has travelled quite a distance to reach Dubai, all the way from Hungary.

A seven month old Labrador came home with my Big man from the Pet Shop located in his office building, completely unannounced. The daughter and father were ecstatic, the son was clueless whether to be happy or otherwise and I was aghast!

I never thought that the family was incomplete without a dog! The sight of dog’s ‘Poop and Pee’ all around the park adjacent to my house actually makes me nauseate and I curse the dog owners for not cleaning after their dogs. That the dog would relieve himself anywhere or everywhere in the garden or inside the house, was beyond my acceptance limit and hence, an unpardonable act to me.

 The initial shock subsided after few minutes of screaming and giving me no time to gather myself to greet him, the horror started to unfold bit by bit. Hashtag peed right there on the sofa (my most favorite corner where I love to sit with a cup of tea and the morning newspaper!)  I forgot to react and the daughter immediately started explaining how dogs mark their territory by peeing. (How insane is that!)   

The daughter immediately ran to the kitchen to get the roll of kitchen towel and without even a hint of disgust, she wiped the floor with tissue and cleaned with Dettol water. I was horrified to say the least.

…..but lo and behold! There was more to the horror. Before the floor even dried, Hashtag could not control his motion and the rest is not very hard to guess!

I could sense that my days and nights were going to be a complete mess with Hashtag’s arrival while the daughter and her father tried relentlessly to convince me otherwise.

His bed, chewies, food bowl, water bowl, packets of treats and readymade food, toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, bath tub, towel, hair brush, two leashes, a harness and a collar, were all unloaded from the car dickey and organized neatly in the store room shelves. I just don’t remember whether there was so much of arrangement when I brought home my babies from the hospital!

In the afternoon, he was set free in the garden to make him familiar with the environment and he peed everywhere in a bid to mark his territory. The husband looked at him with indulgence, the daughter giggled uncontrollably and I was sitting on a garden chair, motionless, speechless and breathless, possibly with anger!

The night descended and after an elaborate discussion between the daughter and father, Hashtag’s bed was laid in the study room and my husband decided to sleep on the sofa to make the dog feel safe and comfortable! I don’t remember if he ever stayed up and awake during nights when children were small!

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for me, the next morning he had to leave station for an assignment. At night, the daughter refused to sleep upstairs leaving her “darling” Hashtag alone and I was left with no choice but to sleep in the living room with her and her “darling”. While she fell asleep within minutes of snuggling under the blanket, Hashtag kept me up and about the entire night with his antics reminding me the days of sleepless nights when the kids were small.

……. and that too, for the dog!! Unbelievable!

In a matter of two days, the green grasses in my garden developed yellow patches (soaked with Hashtag’s urine) and he chose no particular area for his big job! I lost my paradise.

Sleepless, homeless (almost!), with each passing day, frustration was increasing with his unpredictable and erratic toilet habit! Rajeev (a renowned dog trainer) was hired to make Hashtag toilet trained. On the first session, possibly he could sense my emotion towards the animal and dropped a simple line after he was done with the lesson, “Just accept him as he is. He will never be able to understand logically why you are angry with him. But give it some time and he will not give you chance to regret that you brought him home”.

Something clicked. For the first time, I called him to me and looked into his eyes. Hesitantly, he sat in front of me with complete submission. A surge of emotion ran past me – possibly he is missing his mum and the mum, far away in Hungary, is possibly missing her baby. When he grows up in a few months, the mother will never get to know or see how handsome her boy looks. Being the foster mother, the joy and pride will be all mine!

That day, I wore a pair of gloves and cleaned his poop in a plastic bag; took him upstairs and laid his bed by the side of my bed, touched his head softly to say “good night” and switched off the light. He let go off a deep breath, stretched his limbs, looked at me once and fell asleep like a baby knowing in his mind that I have finally accepted him.

Today, when I closed the door behind me while leaving for office, I could decipher the look in his eyes. He certainly wanted to say, “When will you come home, Mom?”  

Being mother is a tough task and being mother of someone else’s child is doubly tough. Howsoever tough it might be, how can I not love someone as cute and handsome like my Hashtag with deep brown eyes and a button nose!!!

 (I was allowed the honor to name him)