My nine-month old Labrador Theo is adorable with kids. Despite my general aversion to anyone under the age of 13, my dog has strangely developed a warm rapport with all the little runts in my colony.

His favourite kids are our neighbours, who one day decided to get their three-year-old cousin to play with “the puppy”. My puppy, has however, grown like a dog on steroids. So the doorbell rang and out went Theo to greet his friends. However, the new guest was expecting a small dog and froze at her spot when she saw this monster. The monster, clearly oblivious to the effect he had, was wagging his tail and sniffing her all over. The little kid let out a loud, horrified wail. And then some more.
Now it was the monster’s (who is actually timid as a mouse) turn to be petrified. Unused to such loud noises, Theo retreated a few steps as the wails continued. Suddenly, unable to stand the noise, he darted off down the stairs. By now, I was carrying the hollering child. I literally dropped the child on its head and started following Theo down the stairs. He suddenly found that someone on the 18th floor had left the door ajar. He ran into their house and up the stairs, straight into their bedroom. I had no choice but to follow. As I entered I saw an old lady sitting frozen on her sofa, a terrified-looking maid flailing her broom in the air and the lady of the house wondering how a crazy, delinquent animal had suddenly run into their house. I ran up the stairs into the bedroom and found my brave dog whimpering under the bed. I caught him by the scruff and brought him back home.
This is just one of my many memorable (and embarrassing) doggie tales.
Bambi, Chops and Wag by Ranjit Lal is a celebration of stories such as these, which are rites of passage in every dog owner’s life. Lal, in his book, tells us the story of not one but three of his dogs. Bambi —the elegant, runaway Boxer who had to be taught how to bark; chauvinistic and exuberant Boxer Chops and finally (my personal favourite) the rogue Labrador Wag.
The author evocatively recreates each little moment, each tiny idiosyncrasy of these madcap canines in such a heart-warming manner that by the end of the book, they become pets you know and love. I found myself discussing the hilarious episode of the vagabond Bambi being “brought back” by the majestic, well-trained Alsatian Ranjha with a dog-lover friend over lunch.
He writes, “Immediately the beautiful Alsatian took off after our runaway. She rolled her eyes at him and led him a merry dance, leading him deeper and deeper into the racecourse. He wasn’t fazed one bit.
Just followed her calmly and cleverly and began making her run in smaller and tighter circles, cutting her escape routes off, so that she had to perforce get closer and closer to us. Eventually she tired and stood panting happily a few yards away, and we went up and slipped her leash back on, without a problem. Ranjha stood calmly by her side as if he had been bringing to heel disobedient vagabonds all his life.”
Bambi polishing off the butter, smacking her lips under the table after wolfing down rasmalais meant for a guest, Bambi’s love for horse-dung, Chops’ fixation with slippers, his antipathy to other dogs, the struggles with toilet training will bring back happy memories about experiences you’ve had with at least one or all of your dogs. I know it’s wrong to pick favourites, but for me (as I’ve mentioned earlier) the arrival of the Hoodlum from Hapur (read Wag) is the high-point of the book.
After hearing the story of two nearly angelic dogs, a little action is always fun. And who better than growly, moody, unpredictable, pigeon poop-obsessed Wag. He makes for the most wonderful reading. In fact, on one vet visit with Wag, the author runs into Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw, who walks up to Wag, pets him and calls him “a lovely chap”. Lal, meanwhile, says a silent prayer hoping that the “lovely chap” doesn’t snap the Field Marshal’s fingers off.
Wag being the official passport and immigration control officer of the house, the hostage exchange programme with the napkins and the whole spy versus spy routine that needed to be followed each time one had to step out of the house is deliciously funny. But, the diamond in Wag’s crown is his encounter with the elephant on the road. Wag greets the passing elephant in his characteristic style “with a salvo of barks” leaving the author mortified that the elephant would “stomp” on their Maruti Omni and “crunch it like a beer can” to teach the little pip-squeak a lesson.
Wag’s reputation deteriorates so much that even when the roof of the house collapses, the author’s first instinct is to assume that Wag was up to something. However, one look at the figure curled up on the pillow and those “ginger eyelashes fluttering gently” and suddenly everything is pardoned. Such is the effect dogs have on humans.
Lal’s book embodies that oft-repeated, but universal truth that dogs don’t really need you as much as you need them. Once they are a part of your life, nothing is ever the same again. If you have battled with disobedience, if you have bribed, if you have woken up to puke, poop and pee, if your legs have been humped, if your face has been licked, if you’ve been heartbroken each time you leave the house, you’ve certainly had a four-legged child and this book is for you. If you haven’t, pick up the book and be inspired.