She stood
ready to pounce, eyes locked on the three ruffians waiting to leap about ten feet to my
right. In the middle, I stood with a mad resolve, my instincts on high – I was
a mother too.
The three
little beauties lay heaped on each other, huddled, eyes closed tight, oblivious
to the ambush above.
My little
child of five stood silent, finger on his lips, eyes peeled, behind the safety
of the gate, watching me and the little pups. “Don’t worry Awwa, mamma will
save them”, he whispered with such conviction to my petrified mother watching
us all, I was torn.
As my
mother’s eyes panned left to right, one arm protectively harnessed her love and
life, her little grandson. The other hand gripped a heavy cane, ready to be
hurled at my first attacker (markswoman in her heydays, she has an unfaltering
aim even today).
We were all
mothers that day, each protecting our child.
No one
breathed. Not even the wind. The only sounds were of occasional growls from the
leader of the pack to my right and the dull drone of highway traffic beyond.
The golden
litter was 10 days old and the mother dog found it safe to leave her precious
puppies by the side of our gate in the dry drain when she went away to do what
doggie mummies do. My mum never has a day to worry for her safety, with this
stray dog standing watch by the gate, all day. That day, was payback time.
As my son
watched me with absolute faith, the mother dog watched me with equal trust, set
to protect me, should I be attacked. So did my mother.
Shattering
the silence, a scooter whizzed past and the three rogue dogs moved in from the
right. My mum threw the cane over and I lunged towards them, glaring into their
eyes. They stopped short, growling all the time, and just as suddenly, turned
around and trotted off the other way.
Taken aback,
I quickly glanced at the pups who were yelping away now. I turned to look at
their mother on my left – she had the softest look in her eyes. If she could
talk, she would have said a million things to me. I reached for the pups and
held myself back, immediately remembering that these were stray, after all. What
if the mother attacked me?
As if sensing my apprehension, this
wonderful creature that I thought of as untamed, took a few paces back, sat down
and nodded towards her pups, never letting her moist eyes leave my gaze. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Misty
eyed myself, I smiled at her, and reached down to the pups that were by then, really
desperate. After my little sonny had very quickly baby-talked to the doggie
babies, we left the space for their mother to console them. 
We watched
from over the gate as she expertly put them in a line and held them in the
safety of her tummy. Giving us a wholehearted look, she lay her head over her
litter and closed her eyes as the pups settled into her warm nuzzle. 
My hair stand on end even today when I think back on that afternoon. The gratitude, the sheer protectiveness, the humane mother-to-mother connect … so complete, so overwhelming. The love, so pure. If only humans were as
trusting and unconditional.
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