simba

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She walked in, still half asleep
Her gait slow and lazy
Her skin golden, glowing
Her eyes looked like they were still dreaming
One, grey and open, the other half closed
We all stopped talking
I looked at her
She was beautiful, for a 15 year old
I wondered, what she must be thinking
She looked past me, searching the room
Her father, got up hurriedly
Worried she will distract us, be a bother
He caught her, took her to the veranda
She resisted and then went finally, irritated I think
We continued to be, a subtle change in us
As she was looking in, at us
Perhaps angry, perhaps hungry
My heart went to her
We left after a while
She changed the way I look at her kind, for the better
I think of her sometimes
Always with a smile.

(SIMBA is a 15 year old, (85 human years old), golden furred Great Dane. I met her at a friends place. The grey in her eyes is cataract. She is half blind. She eats milk and roties (Indian Bread). No meat. She loves malai in her milk and does not take the milk if there is no malai. She sleeps on the bed with her owners. She was not well when we met her last. When I saw her, she looked like a person to me. Still does!)

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