So many friends I am havingg

Today, I decided to pay a remembrance to all the amazing little friends I've had throughout my childhood.  These were ones I rescued, fed, bathed, fed and looked after and who finally left me by either dying, running away or being stolen.

1. Mickey, the squirrel:  He was my brother's, actually. He invaded my brother's head, made a home there, shat on it, slept on it and thought the dense mass of curls was home. He never left his head to come say hello to us. I was too small and too scared of him. My dad found him one day while driving home from work (ah! a potential pet, he thought!). A baby squirrel, sitting near a tree, lost and lonely without a mom. I don't know how he left us but we were told he was sent to a "farm" with many more squirrels. So no harm done, right :) He's probably playing there still, must be 30 years old now.

2. A series of anonymous pups: We got a new pup home almost everyday (the neighbourhood bitch was quite frisky, you see). Brother and I would feed them, play with them and mom would scorn and disapprove. Dad was okay, but one day we realised that the pups needed to be clothed. So we made all of them wear my dad's T-shits, vests and underwear (why did we choose my dad's wardrobe, I will never know). But after that, my dad decided this little shenanigans needed to stop because he was running out of inner wear. And so all our pets were banned from being brought home. 

3. Kittu, the baby bird: One day, while my cousin and I were playing in my grandparents house, we saw a little a baby bird fall from a nest, on the floor. Her mother, it seemed, had abandoned her. Cousin and I immediately decided— "She will be our daughter," and daughter, she truly was. We took the role of Indian moms very seriously and decided the best way to bring up a child was by feeding it.....a LOT. Every time the bird opened her mouth to cry (probably was asking us to leave her alone but who knows, probably not) we fed her — from bread, vegetables, sugar, rice, curd to chocolate, mithai and more, we ensured she had a full, wholesome diet. Everything but that wretched bird food—ew, our daughter won't eat that! She slept in our room, we sang her lullaby's. She was becoming very well fed, and soon, we realised, this could be a problem. Her stomach started growing, and so we contemplated a strict diet plan. But nothing seemed to work. Her crying made us feed her more, her bloating tummy made us cry more. Eventually, her digestive system gave way....and she passed away. We gave her a very formal burial, just so you know.
This is a true story btw. No exaggeration.

4. Kittu, the cat: You see, when it comes to names, clearly I am very unoriginal. Her mother was killed in a tragic accident and so dad got her home. She was christened Kittu, in remembrance of not only my previously failed 'bringing up a bird project' but according to dad, it was a Ranjan tradition to name all cats 'Kittu'. As the drill goes, I took her in as my own child, washed her (she didn't need washing btw), fed her, tried to clothe her (dads underwear to the rescue!), tried to establish friendship between her and my family dog (who tried to eat her) and basically was a complete slave to her. She stayed in the basement and was extremely needy. I would wake up at 5 in the morning to feed  her milk in an ink dropper. I taught her how to climb up the basement stairs into the living room. Later I realised it was a big mistake. She would climb up, 'meow' on the dog's face and create a ruckus at home. Every day after school I would bolt towards the basement, hug her and tell her how much I missed her. She was always hungry and very space demanding. While our friendship lasted for a few months, our family dog decided it was time to turn on the dramatics—he stopped eating, threw a tantrum and basically made us get rid of the cat.

5. Jimmy, the tortoise: While driving to a new city that we were to call home, my dad yet again spotted a potential pet on the road—Jimmy the tortoise. I happily took him in and he sat on my lap throughout the journey. I had BIG plans for Jimmy, because our new house had a big garden. He would be the king of a new green, kingdom. I was happy about two things mainly—he would eat grass, thus I would not have to chart a diet plan for him. The second, he was a tortoise. They live for like a 100 years. Nothing I do will ever lead to his death. It was a win- win situation. He and I remained friends for precisely one night. The next morning he was stolen from our garden.

6. Red cap gold, the red cap gold fish: Now in retrospect, I do feel my parents should have staged an intervention. I mean, every afternoon I would sit in front of our aquarium, and talk to the fish, REALLY loudly (because I thought they wouldn't be able to hear me through the aquarium glass). I fed them fish food, chit-chatted with them, and considered them my new best friends. However, this friendship too was cursed. One day, our family dog jumped up, pulled them out of the aquarium and ate them. I was horrified, disgusted and heartbroken. There could be no burial. But I didn't speak to the dog for a whole day.


7. Mickey, the squirrel: Yes, just the way all cats were to be named Kittu, we decided all squirrels would be called Mickey. To cut a long story short — I fed him, took care of him and well, it was all short lived.  All in all, a lovely time spent and so many new lessons to learn.