Three Black Spots: Our Adventures with Yoda

THE YODA MAGIC

Let me confess : I am an animal lover. In fact, I love anything on four legs. It’s not just dogs I am crazy about. I’m nuts about cats, guinea pigs, rabbits. The day I got married, my mother took the 17 stray cats I had at home, and deposited them at the Sassoon Dock fish market, assured of an endless supply of fresh food, straight from the boats.

The happiest days of my life were the three days I spent at the Sabi Sabi Game Sanctuary in Krueger National park in South Africa. I fell in love with the animals in the wild there, and could never visit a zoo again.

So, you can imagine what I felt like to leave our beloved Dalmatian, Leia, behind every time we had to travel. When Leia passed on, I was determined that I would never leave a pet behind. And, the hunt was on : it would have to be a dog who was small enough to be in the airplane cabin with us, sturdy enough to withstand the rigors of the perpetual jet-lag, and easy to care for.

When in doubt, hit the books was my motto. This was in 1993, before the days of Google Search. I narrowed the possible breeds down to three : 1. Papillon 2. Bichon Frise and 3. Shih-Tzu. The first was rejected purely on the grounds that at that time, we lived in a building called Le Papillon, and a Papillon in Papillon was just too terminally cute. The second breed was ruled out, because in India people would think a Bichon Frise was a new salad. So, we were left with the Shih-Tzu. Of course our neighour’s reaction was Shit what?

On the principle that two out of three requirements wasn’t bad, we got a small sturdy dog. As for ‘easy to care for’, Yoda was anything but! I had seen Nancy’s dogs, and it didn’t look like she had to spend hours caring for them. I thought to myself, how hard can it be? That particular phrase has got me into trouble on many, many occasions but those are stories for other books…

I asked Nancy to introduce us to her breeder, Janet. Of course, I was over the moon when I realized that he was to be a gift from John and Nancy.

Yoda was truly the best gift that anyone could have ever given us. We took him into our hearts, and he generously allowed us to become his primary care-givers. What we didn’t realize at the time, was that he too would become a primary care giver to us. And the rest is what follows…

Mina Krishnan

February 2013

FROM A BLOG TO A BOOK

This is a true story. My 9 year old grandson Kieran has commanded that my book should start with this line. I’m also expecting a diktat from his 6 year old sister Ava, and I hope it arrives before this book goes ‘live’. She does not take kindly to being dissed.

Mina and I began to live two lives in 1993 - four weeks in Bombay and four weeks in New York. Business opportunity was our alibi, but mainly it was our reluctance to cut the umbilical cord with our daughter Ayesha, an undergrad in Cleveland. We got used to what a British Airways staffer called the ‘old bus ride’ across the pond, going back and forth across three continents and 10 time zones. We lived in a state of permanent jet lag, and happily acquired two full wardrobes, one for each city. But something was missing. Princess Leia our Dalmatian had died, and we wanted a small dog that could do the old bus ride with us. Enter Yoda, the Shih-Tzu, and 19 years later, here is the book of our adventures with the fellow. From Flora Fountain to Fifth Avenue, from kutta one day to pooch the next, Yoda sashayed his way across the world. Nine and a half pounds of chutzpah and chusti, dedicated to putting a big fat smiley face on everyone he met.

So, how did this book come to be? We had gone, with Yoda of course, on a wine tour to the Burgundy region. Our guide Ronald was also one of Seattle’s avid food bloggers. He took pictures of Yoda poised on a vineyard boundary wall, with wine glasses around him, and posted them on his blog with the line, A dog’s life in Burgundy.

The links to the blog went to all our friends. We got the usual reactions. Awesome. Cool. Yo Yoda. They ran the entire gamut of one word emotions and emoticons - the lingo of the new millennium.

Santhini, a famous writer for children in Bombay had another take. She wrote, You must write a book about Yoda, and I will be happy to edit it for you. The trouble with good ideas is that one feels inspired to act on them. It is far better to give good ideas, than to get them. Just like ulcers.

This book is not the Art of Living discourses from Yoda. There are no life lessons being dispensed, and no koans on offer. There was much we learned from him, and he was careful not to reciprocate, but that’s not the point of these pages.

I’ve been told that every book needs to have an arc. A beginning, a middle and an end. What’s the storyline for Yoda’s tale? Where is the book headed? Does the book have a point? Do the chapters have any link with each other? I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Rocket science this is not.

Like Seinfeld, this is a story about nothing. There is no point. There might be a slinky, but there is no arc. It’s written in short chapters, because I am naturally a lazy sod, and also because our life with Yoda was all about brief crisp vignettes. Yoda did his thing. Stuff happened around us. Thoughts popped into our heads. We responded. Yoda’s operating philosophy seemed to be - eat well, drink lots of water, poop and pee, sleep tight, and smile a lot. The Dalai Lama could not have put it better.

I think Yoda suspected that something was going on. He took to giving me more than my share of affectionate licks. Not too many, no need to get me blasé. Just enough to whet the appetite, and have me asking for more. What a tease. Mina got a little snippy at times, loudly muttering, ‘Just because he’s writing a book about you…’. We are a very competitive family.

My father was a great believer in ‘writing one page a day’. For me, not him. I was tyrannized into writing every single day, till I escaped to boarding school at the age of ten. I began writing this book four weeks after he died, so maybe this is the Karmic link. One day, I’ll pay someone a lot of money to figure this out, but not now. First, I have to sell this book.

This book has already given me a major frisson. Every ever so polite rejection letter I have got so far - all of them modeled on the George Costanza line, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’, address me as Dear Author. I’ve been called many things in my life, but not that.

Perhaps the only writing skill I have from my days spent in advertising is the ability to write in short paragraphs and think in 30 second commercials. When you write for short attention spans, and every consumer seems to have ADD, you’ve got to hit it and get it. Thank God I left the profession before the days of remotes, fast forwards and zapped commercials.

I think that this book will create a whole new genre. Feel good reading. No need to remember what you read yesterday, no plot lines or characters to carry forward. Nothing to tax the intellect, or aggravate the constitution. Pablum on paper. Even if I cannot capture a specific literary niche, I might just make inroads into the ‘cutting chai’ market.

Where is this story headed? Tomorrow, that’s where. Every day brought new fodder for another Yoda story. Someone said or did something. A headline grabbed our attention. Memory was jogged. And Mina and I went Aha. Another day. Another chapter.

Here it is. Yoda’s story. And ours.

Mohan Krishnan

February 2013

LET’S PUT OUR CARDS ON THE TABLE

The dog sleeps in bed with us.

We talk to the dog, we sing to the dog, and we don’t care if he remains silent.

A dog’s mouth is clean and kissable, and yes, we know that he licks his privates.

We will not blame our farts on the dog, not unless we’re with the Queen .

The dog eats first.

Each pet store and web site should be visited. Why else do you have a credit card?

It’s okay to take the kid to the ER in the morning, but the dog gets taken at midnight.

We’ll pay the vet’s bills without a murmur, even if we have to buy less wine.

Designer duds are good for dogs. They may not care, but we do.

A dog may pee up to 14 times per walk.

When the dog is looking for the right spot, he must not be rushed.

Ditto for when he’s sniffing other canines’ butts.

We’ll not shower excessive praise and TLC on other dogs, while he’s around.

Every doggy birthday will be remembered and celebrated.

Wallets will always have a plastic sandwich baggie to scoop the poop.

Pockets and handbags will have a treat or two at all times.

The dog will be perfectly groomed 24/7, even if we’re looking ratty.

The dog’s dignity will be preserved. No dressing him up like Santa at Christmas.

We’ll always talk to the dog before leaving home, even if the driver thinks we’re nuts.

There’s about 380 more points in the Manifesto, but this will do for now.

While reading this, you either smiled or fulminated. If you fulminated, please give the book away instantly. Thanks for buying, and we’ll keep your money, but this is not for you.

GETTING READY

It’s easy to get ready for a baby. You get a list from the hospital.

It’s easy to get ready to send your kid off to college. You get a list from the Uni.

It’s not easy to get ready for a new puppy in your life. There is no list.

There is the advice of people who have gone down this road, and it varies from Oh, it’s a piece of cake to Oh my God, there’s a million things to do.

Eventually it all works out. Like babies, puppies need food and water, a bed, meds, and a place to poop. Unlike babies, they need a leash and harness, but Thank God they need no clothes. Get these handled, and it’s a piece of cake.

And you don’t have to worry about saving for college.

CHOOSING THE RIGHT ONE

A long time ago, I had gone to see our company lawyer, and he asked me Would you like to have a Dalmatian puppy? I said yes, instantly. I had not asked Mina or Ayesha, but I figured that they would love the idea. That evening we rushed to his house, grabbed the puppy, and drove away before he could change his mind. It was the first time in my life when I have got something other than a bill, from a lawyer.

On the way back, we debated what to call this beautiful new dog of ours. Spot was too obvious and boring. We wanted a name that would be right for a queen or a princess. And then it struck us, just halfway down Marine Drive.

We would call her Princess Leia. We loved Star Wars, and the name seemed just right. Indeed it was. She was a Princess through and through, though she did not wear her hair in cinnamon buns over her ears. Dogs always live up to the potential of their name. Unlike humans - I know a Charity, a Chastity, and a Prudence whose behavior bears no resemblance to their names.

Dalmatians are the most beautiful puppies. When they grow up they evolve into powerful, graceful runners, who are the most neurotic dogs on the face of the earth. Leia was in our life for 12 years, and she was Ayesha’s dog. She held the world record for throwing her full weight against Ayesha’s bedroom door over and over again at night, till she was allowed to take her rightful place on the bed. She also charged at any visitor to the house, leaped up and put both legs on their shoulders while she licked their face. She sussed out anyone who was uncomfortable around dogs, and proceeded to sit on their lap and shower them with slobbery kisses.

To this day, Sattar bears the emotional scars of having Leia jump into his lap in a moving car, with no escape, since Mina was bursting a gut laughing and would not pull the car over to the side and rescue him.

Ayesha went off first to boarding school and then to college, and her first question on every phone call was about Leia. We were with Ayesha in the US when Leia died in Bombay, and it took her hours to stop weeping. Mina and I never forgave ourselves for being away from home when Leia went on to the great puppy farm in the sky.

When we decided to get a new dog, three years after Leia died, we had only one thought. The dog would travel everywhere with us. Our business needed us to take the ‘old bus ride’ between Bombay and New York every 4 weeks, and we were going en famille or not at all.

We got a lot of strange looks from friends who should know better, but we were undeterred. What do you mean everywhere? Everywhere. Even abroad. Yes, specially abroad. You’re crazy.

We drove our travel agent (remember the good old days before Expedia and yatri.com?) completely nuts with our questions. Would we be able to take a dog into the plane with us in the cabin? No way would we allow the poor fellow to travel with the luggage in the hold. Would we be able to take the dog into all countries? What about quarantine? Would we have to pay for another seat? How much would it cost?

We drove our vet crazy with our canine questions.

Would the dog be happy traveling, and would he be a quiet traveler? We did not want everyone else on the plane disturbed by our dog barking or crying. We know how hard it is to travel in a cabin with a mewling infant. How would the dog adjust with moving from country to country? How would he cope with jetlag? Would he miss his own home?

As the answers kept rolling in, our anxiety levels went down. First, the good news on the travel front. It is actually quite easy to travel with a dog. Most airlines let you take a dog into the cabin, provided he is less than 5 kilos, and has his own case to sit in. You just have to pay for the excess baggage, so it does not cost an arm and a leg. Except when you travel in the Schengen area, where for some reason, it does cost two arms, two legs and other body parts as well. Most countries also allow you to bring in a dog, provided he has been given the rabies shots, and has a microchip implanted with his information. Island countries do not permit dogs to come in without quarantine, so we decided not to travel to them. No more Australia, or the UK. We could take him to New York, but not to Hawaii.

Hotels welcome dogs these days, all over the world. There is always an extra charge, but many of them promised to have a special doggy blanket, a bowl for water and treats waiting for the dog on arrival. These days, some hotels seem to put on more of a show for the dog than their human guests, which is the way it should be.

Fortunately our business associates in London understood the quarantine issue, and agreed to meet us in France, or in India. Obviously they have generous travel budgets.

Next came the issue of temperament. We needed a travel happy, change-loving, even tempered, canine who was unlike any other dog we had ever known. We needed a dog who would go to sleep when we boarded the plane, and wake up when we landed. We needed a dog who would not need to find a hydrant or a bush at 36,000 feet. We needed a dog who was cool with jet lag, time zones, and extreme weather. We needed a dog who was not a white knuckled flier when the plane hit turbulence. We needed a dog who would not be fazed by ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ water, and did not catch cold or suffer from ennui. We needed a dog who could cope with airline delays, re-routed flights, and security checks. We needed a dog who would embrace a human persona, and leave his ‘dogginess’ behind. We needed a dog who was not a dog, and yet retained his quintessential pooch-ness.

We needed a dog who had qualities we certainly did not possess. How would we find him? Would we have to clone him? Could we steal stem cell lines from Liz Taylor’s dogs?

Without the need to resort to any genetic engineering, with a combination of reading, research, and asking, Mina came up with the answer - a Shih-Tzu. Just say Shit. And Zoo.

THANK YOU, MR. LUCAS

Marine Drive is the lovely promenade that curves by the sea in Bombay. On one side are some of the prettiest old sea front Art Deco buildings in the world. And on the other side, is the lazy sprawl of the Arabian Sea, its waves gently lapping all the way to Chowpatty Beach.

At night, when the buildings are all lit up, and you look down from the Hanging Gardens, Marine Drive traces a glittering arc. Some Brit or Parsi called it the Queen’s Necklace, and the name stuck for a long time. Fortunately, it’s not much in use now, or else there would be a clamor to re-name it. We have already wreaked violence on beautiful names like Flora Fountain, Santa Cruz, the Prince of Wales Museum, and Victoria Terminus. And please don’t get me started on Bombay/ Mumbai.

It takes us about five minutes to drive from one end of Marine Drive to the other when there is no traffic, and about fifteen during rush hour. A lot can be accomplished in fifteen minutes.

Mina and I have had some great ideas in the car on Marine Drive. They all have to do with naming things. I don’t know why, but it always happens on this stretch of road. We picked the name Leia on Marine Drive, and we even named our company on this stretch, but I’ll save that story for the corporate hagiography.

When we knew that we were getting a Shih-Tzu, we wanted another Star Wars name. We had been sent a picture, so we knew what he looked like. The breeder was holding him up, stretched out on the palm of her hand. He looked like a flying sausage in need of a haircut. Even though it would take us another six weeks to get the dog, we wanted to pick the name and be ready for him. We knew a little about Shih-Tzus from Mina’s reading. Small dogs. Lots of hair and lots of personality. But Chewy, Wookie or Ewok would not do. No ugly names for our pooch.

Marine Drive came to the rescue. Mina and I said it together. Yoda. Yoda the Wise. He looked a bit like a Zen monk, but with more hair. We fantasized that he would teach us wonderful things about life. He would be our own personal Jedi Master. Yes, Yoda would be the name for him.

Everyone we meet smiles when they hear Yoda’s name and take in his ‘look’. The name fits.

Thank you, Mr. Lucas.

THREE BLACK SPOTS

The evening that we got Yoda, I lay down on the floor beside him, and let him climb all over me. He settled down on my chest. Three black spots - two eyes and a nose. Lots of hair. After a while he licked my face and went off to sleep, with a gentle snore. I knew that we would get along. He and I could snore in synch.

Mina and I got Yoda on Valentine’s Day - February 14, 1995. He was five months old, and a present to us from John and Nancy, friends who live in Chicago. They’d had Shih-Tzus for many years, and when Mina told her about wanting a dog, Nancy decided that she would get him for us. The best present we have ever been given.

We traveled from Bombay to the Windy City to pick him up. Mina went with Nancy to get Yoda from the breeder, and then headed straight to the pet store. A whole new world had opened up - the magic of shopping for the pooch.

Jack, who had come over that for dinner that evening, saw us with Yoda and asked, Does this dog have any idea how his life is going to change? Here was Yoda - a little puppy from rural Illinois - being whisked off to New York, and then to Bombay.

Would he enjoy the change? Would he like traveling? Would he suffer from jet lag? Would he like the smell of Indian curry? Would he miss his mother and brothers and sisters? How would this hairy fellow cope with the heat and humidity of India? How would life on Paradise Lane compare with life on the 13th and 14th floors of Le Papillon on Mount Mary Road, Bombay?

I guess the real question is Did we have any idea how our life was going to change?

That night, Yoda slept on the floor. We were too scared to let him sleep on the bed with us. What if we ended up crushing the guy? At night I woke up, and could not find him. I woke up Mina in a panic. ‘I think we’ve lost Yoda’. Five frantic minutes later, we discovered that he had found the gap between the