It began with stamps

All boys want to be engine drivers when they grow up and are ardent stamp collectors, and I was no exception to this general rule. It was when my hobby was at its peak that dad enrolled me in a residential school. All was well for the first year in prep school, but junior school was a different proposition altogether. Kids were looking out for any excuse to go outdoors to play cricket and football. In the rough and tumble of it all philately looked downright sissy. My frail frame and bespectacled mien did not add to the charm. And when the seniors started to refer to me as the stamp collector, that was the last straw. I decided to throw in the towel, and joined the more masculine sports.

Years whizzed past and I joined medical school. When a kitten strayed into my life, I truly had no choice in the matter. Who could ignore a helpless waif, whimpering and soaked to the bone? Pity gave way to possessiveness. When I took milk and bread and even a spare blanket to my room, my chums were puzzled. Kitty was my magnificent little obsession. But as a naive lad, I had not reckoned that house cats came from a lineage of survivors who had, since ancient Egypt, induced men to pay for their board and lodging in exchange for frugal displays of affection. One eventful day, she stiffened and sat bolt upright, and glared at me with those bright yellow eyes. After a long pause she meowed sharply and walked out with a thin smile on her lips. Was it not Ogden Nash who said that the trouble with a kitten is that it grows up to be a cat?

Life has a blissful habit of healing the wounds. Soon I was an intern at the prestigious hospital. I felt an acute need to meet others than the desperately sick patients and their relatives, someone to share my woes. Chastened and wiser, I opted for man8217;s best friend. At the kennels, I chose the most robust and the cutest. I bathed him, put a collar round him. Training in paediatrics helped to compute an accurate chart of height, weight and immunisations. Pet psychology too was gone into. I proudly took Caesar for walks. But unknown to all, he was a mongrel.