The unhygienic surroundings around our house had caused KC a health issue. He had constant stomach upsets and bouts of diarrhea. His appetite had reduced and he ate a lot of grass (people laugh at this but eating grass is an instinctive defense mechanism amongst all dogs). Vet after Vet came to treat him but none could set it right for KC.
One day I read about one Dr. Yatiraj, Professor and Head, Department of Clinical Veterinary Medicine and soon to be the Dean of Veterinary College. His credentials were quite impressive – presented 60 research papers, 80 scientific papers at seminars and workshops in the USA, Australia, Bangkok, Sri Lanka, etc. We decided that this was the Vet KC needed to see.
He had his clinic in Banashankari and one evening we took KC there. The clinic was in the basement of a building and we had a tough time since our friend pulled and pulled; he wanted to get down the stairs as soon as possible because there were so many dogs in the clinic and he just wanted to mingle with his ilk. He’d be all excited each occasion a trip to the Vet was being contemplated.
When KC’s turn came, we had to carry this 30-odd kg, 4-legged fellow on to the examination table and phew, that was quite something. A few tests later, the Doc told us that KC had what is know as Pancreatitis, an inflammation of the pancreas which affects the flow of enzymes into the digestive tract. Besides giving him an injection, he prescribed ‘Pancreoflat’, a tablet that KC would have one a day for the rest of his life.
KC was fine ever since that visit. A couple of occasions the pancreas problem did occur but once the tablets started having effect KC was absolutely in fine shape.
In 2005, we moved to a bigger house just 2 blocks away from our #349 home in Koramangala.
KC loved the place. It was an independent house, 2 floors and 2 staircases – one from inside the house and one on the outside. We had our office in one room on the first floor which overlooked the street; a vantage point for KC. He got to watch who came or went and if any dogs were found lingering around, he’d charge down the staircase and bark them till they were out of sight. Once that was done, he’d drink lots of water and come up again, sit at the top of the steps and continue his vigil.
In the evenings after we’d shut shop for the day, I would sit out in the portico and coax KC to have his dinner. He wouldn’t eat unless he had some entertainment and an audience. There was a brown coloured stray who lived in the street. KC would look out the gate and if he found her in the vicinity, he’d come up to me to tell me that I must get some bread. I had to keep throwing small bits of bread or chapatti to ‘Browny’ and that would prompt KC to eat.
KC was just like any other kid. He was delirious with excitement about going for walks, going to the doctor, for a ride in the car, or whenever I came home a after a trip or even if one of the boys got back after work. KC’s vigorously wagging tail was his way of telling us how happy he was.
Petting KC was a daily routine. How we miss that; and I’m sure he does too.