Love is in the air and although my rational mind knows that it is  the angular momentum of the earth which makes the world go round my heart wants to believe otherwise.  And I am tempted to bare my heart and recount an unlikely  love story. 

He came somewhat late in my life  and   changed it forever. We enjoyed a great companionship, a perfect camaraderie. We shared comfortable silences without ever needing to  utter a word. To him I was transparent. He knew what I was feeling or thinking before I felt it myself. And when I spoke he hung on to every word , listening attentively not just to what I said but how I said it. He understood the finer nuances  of body language and knew by the tone of my voice what I really meant

We understood each other perfectly. He  would never interrupt me and if, rarely , he couldn’t follow me or disagreed he would cock his head to one side and give me a puzzled look . A gentle request for me to slow down or rethink what I was saying.

He was exceptionally good looking and tall for his kind . One look at him and maidens would  swoon. I was appalled by how they would shamelessly try to touch him and  win him over . At times the constant attention he got from these young and nubile girls made me insecure .But he never gave me reason to complain. He would come hastily  when I called. Always ready to honour  and to protect .He was quick to forgive, quicker to forget mistakes. Never held a grudge for too long. Never went to sleep angry. He  was never too tired, too busy or too preoccupied.

He loved my cooking and  gratefully ate whatever I offered , always asking for seconds. We never fought over the remote. He was willing to watch whatever I chose and I would often catch him looking at me instead of the TV. He  cherished the sight of me and  I would wake up to his breath on my face and him gazing adoringly into my eyes. 

He was playful and fun. He loved to play the clown, to fool around, to make me laugh. He would follow me around trying to help in little chores . He would  gladly clean up spills and fetch things before I asked  or even  needed them

But of all his qualities the one I miss  most  is that he never shied away from telling me how pleased he was to have me in his life . He constantly showed how much I meant to him and how he missed me.  He made homecoming  a celebration, even if we were apart for just a couple of hours.

He was a careless dresser and clearly showed a preference for staying au naturale but,  just to humour me, would  wear whatever I bought  him. He was obsessed  with his hair and loved to sport the unkempt look . He hated shaves and haircuts. He also hated brushes and combs and preferred that I tousled  his hair with my fingers instead . Truth be told,he was a bit sloppy when it came to personal hygiene. He  hated to bathe. In fact the mention of it would send him scurrying for cover. 

Leaving aside this and the occasional grumpiness, he was perfect. And there was never a bad mood which couldn’t be made better with a cuddle , a kiss or a small treat. It was so easy to gauge his moods. Just a look at his gait and I could tell . He had a walk for every occasion. The quick purposeful walk, the playful romp , the sneaky slow crawl , the rebellious heavy trudge and the dangerous  prowl are just a few which come to mind

And then one day, he walked off on his furry paws leaving a dog shaped hole in my heart . I forgot to mention that he had very little dog sense , else he would have sniffed his way back home. Although over time the territorial markings that he loved to make ,have worn off , the one on my heart stays.  Pogo, my love , I miss you! Come back, my Valentine.

(published in the Tribune on 14/2/2015)