Lessons from Luna

and the deception of beginnings

There’s an iron nail that protrudes out of the library door that looks to the balcony. The nail holds the doorknob in place. I found a few hairs stuck there today. As luck would have it, they were not growing out of the door, but were possibly caught by the door in a moment of “how dare you brush so close to me?” The hair was curly and black. Mine.

I think I remember the moment I gave these away. I was running after the newest member of our family to stop her from scaring the wits out of some older ones. I had tried to make her “STAY” or “SIT” in the balcony, enjoy the plants, get used to the air, look out at the gate, and get inspired by other role models on the street, walking on a leash with anticipation, not crying, not anxious, not feeling terrified on the insides of a hug. But there she was, our little Luna, shaking with every leaf and sound wave like all of the world’s electricity passed through the wires of her heart, or tail. She had taken it upon herself to find safety at all costs, using the limited resources of her four legged brain and 1.5-2 years worth of experience on planet Earth (she gives it one star rating). She decided to run before and after any moving object, refused eye contact, and treated the throwing of ball as a distraction she was too good to fall for. Yes, sure, and what are you going to do while I fetch the ball? Hit me or leave? I’ll take neither, thank you. 

Luna was rescued in Noida by a lovely couple (Kamna and Nishant) who worked for weeks and weeks to nurse her to health after what seemed like months of violence and trauma. She had sustained many wounds and cysts, due to violence by humans and other dogs. Through the work of this couple, she found her way to Friendicoes in Gurgaon, where my partner and I first laid eyes on her amidst the music of more than 60 dogs, either looking to meet us or to find out how soon we were leaving, I don’t know. There she was, barking at intervals, unsure of what the outcome of barking will be, but giving it a shot anyway. Long story short, Luna came into our lives on 18 August 2023. She’s a Leo as far as homecoming signs are concerned, but we do not know what her actual birth date is. We did not mind. We had recently lost our first pet, Sky. Luna lived in a shelter and was going into a new home. It was fresh starts all around. While this sounds like a happy ending and a logical point to stop writing, this was only the beginning.

After the months of trauma she had endured, Luna was scared, not in the way a dog is when they come into a new home, but the way someone is when they are at the edge of the cliff, and all they can see are people who will definitely push. But we did not know this. We had just rescued a beautiful Indie dog, and were excited to run with her around the parked cars. She ran, sometimes to play, and sometimes for her life. While she was fearful, this also meant that she attached herself completely and wholly to the two people who had brought her home, trusting the one who worked from home more than the other. This led to some barking, some crying, and a whole lot of tearing, eating, destroying. I was unable to leave the house without causing significant panic, and making elaborate arrangements for what she will do while I am away. Walls were eaten, fences were jumped, bed sheets were torn, water was spilled, people were barked and growled at. Sometimes, just sometimes, she also looked at us with untrusting eyes, making her discontent known through her nails or growls. My partner and I were not prepared for this. Add to this the fact that no one else in our family was used to, or wanted a pet. Regularly being confronted with dog eaten items and anxious aggression was not their cup of tea. Safe to say, we had an anxious few months, me and my partner and our families, but most of all, Luna.

She is just not a poetry person

She couldn’t comprehend why she was allowed through some doors and some not? Why did she have to pee and poop at a certain place? Why was she being held at the neck when someone came in through the doors? What was the need of using water for cleaning? Who came up with the idea of scary looking brooms? Why did everyone react differently to all her moves? And most of all, after moving many places in a short time, was she here to stay? Could she trust us?

Trying to help Luna feel at home and not let her fear get in the way of love and trust taught us a thing or two about ourselves. We saw how much of our anxiety in getting her to “fit” she was taking on, in addition to all that she was carrying inside of her. When we learnt of her entire story from Nishant and Kamna, and the extent of violence she had faced, we learnt to let her grow into the house and us, instead of teaching her how to follow the rules of being here. We learnt to see how every “no”, “stop” or raised voice was experienced as a memory, as a physical sensation, as a jolt to her very sense of being. Luna did not need to be trained on how to behave better and not tear at walls, she just needed to go a day without feeling like she has to.

After weeks of working with the kind folks at Friendicoes, and apawfive (Kamna and Nishant), and learning to manage dog anxiety on YouTube, we started to see Luna finding a spot for sleeping and stick to it, sunbathing and accepting toys, navigating the parts of the house open to her at her own will, and trusting us. She warmed up to the friends and family we brought home, got excited by visitors, and progressed to finding her own toys to play with people she likes. It has been 9 months since Luna came home, and the gestation period really does seem behind us.

This does not mean all days are a win. Even now, Luna takes things at face value. She assumes a wiper is picked up with the intention of harm, why else would you walk towards her with it? She runs. She whimpers. She tries to rally support. She flinches at any change of colour, and shuts her eyes in anticipation of  a blow after chewing this cloth and that. I sometimes wonder what it is like to be her- getting excited by coloured thermocol and startled by flushing noises. She is still hesitant after peeing at new spots on her walk, did I do it right?

It has taken Luna months to get used to us, and she still flinches now and then when I bend down to kiss her every morning. She sleeps the way dogs sleep, all curled up in her little self, with her nose under her own foot, self reliant and full. She cries when I leave the room, but uses the opportunity to jump on the bed and test it out for the 2 minutes she is alone. I extend my hand for a little bit of love and Luna rolls over. Literally. She expands her surface area for maximum impact, looking for belly rubs, tail touches, and leg massages.

On some days, I can even see her do things the way my partner and I do them. She is almost a human being then. If she spends time catching her tail, I haven’t seen it yet. She swirls on her axis sometimes but gets a grip on reality pretty fast. On some nights, she sleeps with her pillow between her head and elbow like her dad, and runs like her mum. She puts her front paw on my forearm when she sees me pick up my bag and scarf, and when I open Uber, she uses both her hands and crosses them around my arm, putting all the force of faith into an action which she knows hasn’t worked so far. She tries to stop me from leaving. I cancel some plans or move them by an hour. Just like that, Luna demands full membership of the human race, and gets it.

I know a lot of people don’t consider her a child. I don’t bring her up when people are talking about babies, routines, managing sleep schedules, cleaning shit. I know she is not universally loved as a baby would be. I know there are RWAs who are even now concerned that she might bite everyone in the housing society one by one, and if not, at least poop her way into their glass houses. It does not occur to them that she might be barking because she is scared; that these are her only words, though not her only language. Indifferent, Luna licks herself and awaits her next meal. She catches some sun, and would gladly forget all about you if you let her. 

Raising Luna is a reminder for me that fresh starts are overrated. There were many times early in these 9 months, when we had second thoughts about being able to take care of her, of being able to give her what she needs, limited as we were by our work schedules and family comfort. But she took us on. Contrary to my project management personality, Luna forced me to acknowledge, it takes time. It takes time to trust, to love, to touch. She forced me to fall in love with the middle of the story, instead of being excited by the beginning, or reassured by the end. She taught me to recognise my fears, and acknowledge when I did not know best. She showed me that with some overthinking and tears behind you, and a whole lot of patience later, you get to the point where you let someone tie little red bells around your neck, because it gives them pleasure, and because you know they love you.