growing up the son of dogman

My father has a gift when it comes to dogs. Over the course of his childhood in Punjab, he had no fewer than fourteen different dogs. Somehow dogs always seem to sense this, even though he hasn't had a dog since moving to Canada in 1972. I've always been envious of the way dogs are drawn to my father, and have always been amazed at the way they soften to his petting. In recent years, I've taken to referring to him as 'the dogman' when I tell people about his canine talent.

One unfortunate consequence of growing up in full knowledge of my father's former life with the dogs was that my brother, sister and I grew up with the constant (unfulfilled) hope that a new puppy was imminent. My mother has always been opposed to the idea of having a dog. She worried about the smell, the cleaning, and most of all that she'd grow too attached and lose the dog at some point. This typically ended any episode of dog-seeking on our part. Still, I can't count the number of times we convinced ourselves that it would happen. We'd visit the pet store and pick out a particular puppy we really liked. Following this, we'd have our father try to convince our mother while the three of us would have conversations that usually ended in phrases like "yeah, an electric fence is definitely the way to go", or "I'll do the walking, and you can handle the bathing." My parents always led us to the brink of belief; I think they believed it would happen too; but always, near the end, Mom would come in and call the plan off, and we'd all abandon hope. Until the next time. I think my father shared accutely in the sense of disappointment my brother, sister and I shared.

My father's dogman powers sometimes seem supernatural. When we walk down the street, I can almost see the way dogs are physically drawn to him. I have seen him subdue all manner of dogs, from German Sheppards to Labradors to Saint Bernards. All pant excitedly upon seeing him. Particularly telling is how my father interacts with my cousin's dog Buddy. Buddy is a strong, vicious, angry black guard dog in Panchkula. This is an animal that growls, barks and tugs its chain at the sight of most anybody but his owner. His name notwithstanding, Buddy is not a friendly dog. Within five minutes of setting foot in their house, my father was playfighting with Buddy, and a few minutes later, Buddy was anxiously lying on his back while my father pet his stomach. Everybody was amazed. Over the next few weeks, Buddy would bark happily at the sight of my father, and my father was always on hand to entertain.

When I arrived at the house a couple of weeks later, the dog growled at me ominously. Still, a few hours later, he semed quiet. I cautiously approached Buddy, hoping to convert his quietness into perhaps a nice pet on the head. I remember thinking "I'm the son of dogman, I'm meant for this", as I got closer and closer to Buddy. After all, my father had tamed Buddy, and I am very much my father's son. Surely, Buddy's sixth animal sense could tell that I was no ordinary stranger. His silence proved it! Suffice it to say, Buddy's mood abruptly changed and I jumped three feet back to avoid a sharp bite on my leg by only inches. I heard his teeth smack hard. I guess there's only room enough in this family for one dogman.