What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?
Tara was around 4 years old when she had her pups. The first six weeks were a lot of fun. The first couple of weeks the pups could barely see anything and were immobile. And Tara would come and sit down around them every couple of hours, close enough so they could smell her or the milk she produced but far enough away so she never trampled or sat on them. The seven pups would scramble blindly across the space often crawling over each other in their eagerness to feed. She would sit patiently for almost an hour and sometimes would even take a nap while they fed. Once they were done and were also napping, she would get up and go out to explore or even sleep elsewhere. This happened like clockwork at every meal time or feed time. Her meals were fixed at times when they were not being fed and she was eager to replenish herself. The best part of this time was that she would get up and walk off, and barring a couple of the pups that fell off because she got up too soon, the rest would continue to slumber uninterrupted.
A couple of weeks later, the pups continued to crawl over each other. Actually, at the start of their feed, they would try to stand on their legs to walk and loll and fall. But they attempted. After the feed, they resembled over-stuffed sausages and would continue to sleep around her. Again two weeks of bliss, because while the pups were getting stronger and opening their eyes, they were unable to follow her and walk around. It was closer to the end of the fourth week that we saw their nails and teeth getting sharper and longer. The scratches on Tara, her constant twitches, and her low yelps of pain made us aware of the trauma she was under.
In the fifth and sixth weeks, the pups were strong enough to amble around the room. They only ventured as far as Tara, so they could feed. This was when we slowly introduced external feed to the pack. We didn’t know any better and stocked up on cerelac. But good lord!! We must’ve spent a small fortune on cerelac for them for the 2 weeks they were on it. Tara was still in pain and had slowly started to make her displeasure felt. If we were not around then I’ve heard her snap at the pups. But, when we were around she was quite patient with them and would handle all the trauma their tiny but ultra-sharp nails inflicted on her belly.
From week six onwards, her feeds had reduced and we had started to introduce dog food to the pups. This was many years ago and dog food was rice and milk. Usually, there was a separate bowl of food left for them next to Tara’s bowl and the entire lot of them would pounce on their bowl. But getting the hang of lapping up their food took more effort than drinking milk and there were times they would try just going for the milk while Tara ate her food and in those times, Tara would just growl and snarl at them.
It’s almost like it was yesterday, Tara would growl and snap and the pups would just step away from her, tails between their legs, whimpering in fear. But they were reprimanded, they would not dare to overstep her correction. They would wait longer before attempting to feed on milk rather than lap on their meal. It took a lot of effort but eventually, they figured out how to feed from a bowl. The pups were growing up faster now and they would often growl and play with each other. Their play growls were growing in strength and they also started to snarl and fight with each other. Eventually, it was just Tara and a couple of the pups, and till the end, Tara maintained her position as the alpha of her pack. Butch never snarled at her. Ever. And it was from their interaction that I learned the most about harmony and maintaining peace.
I was a volatile teenager, and until Tara and the pups came about, I had no idea what it meant to keep the peace. But just sitting around with Tara and watching her snarl with just enough ferocity to keep the peace was a lesson in patience. Of course, I never learned this lesson as it happened, but over the years, as I have seen her interact with Butch I’ve noticed that she used to be patient until it was a tad bit much and then she would growl and snarl. But not enough to start a fight, or to dominate, but just enough to reprimand him to tow the line and behave himself. Harmony. Balance. That’s what Tara taught me. Over many years. Through millions of interactions and infinite conversations.
Just a little more 