The Day KC Came Home!

KC Puppy

If memory serves me right, it was sometime towards end-November 2001 that KC was bundled out of my Maruti van. He was about the size of a roll of cotton.

We were in #349, 8th Block, Koramangala and just weeks before our Pomeranian, Poksy, had died due to a Vet’s negligence. We had only Bruno, the mongrel we’d picked up from Russell Market when we first came to Bangalore in the year 2000.

So, we were on the look out for a good breed and one fine day my older son called me to say there was this German Shepherd pup available and he’s just about a month old. “Buy him,” I said unable to conceal my excitement.

Half an hour later, KC came into our lives.

The Vet who gave us KC said he was 33-days old; which put him as being born somewhere around end-October, but no precise date was mentioned. We wanted to him to have a birth date and for want of any memorable day, we decided 12th December would be remembered, because that’s my wife’s birthday. A month or two this way that way wouldn’t classify as a criminal offence; I mean people fudge birth certificates by years just to be eligible for school admissions.

Anyway, now that we had a new addition to the family, firstly, we needed to make suitable living arrangements. Secondly, Bruno was a ferocious fellow and a bit jealous too. Therefore, KC couldn’t be kept outside. The decision was unanimous – KC would stay inside and with Poksy no more, Bruno would do night guard duty.

Most importantly, we needed to give him a name; something we could identify with. I wasn’t for names like ‘Tiger’, ‘Pebbles’, ‘Jackie’ – so boring and uninteresting. This fella must have something different. The wife came up with KC, an abbreviation of

That settled, the next question was, where will he sleep? He was really so small and just about crawling. We couldn’t just tuck him away somewhere. I got hold of a sturdy corrugated box, cut open one side, made a nice cardboard roof to keep the light out, but is some woolen rags and that became his room. We’d feed him milk from a plate and put him in the box. The warmth of his make-shift bed gave him a good many hours of sleep.

Those were the days when we had many flower and gift deliveries to execute for the orders we received on the website. When our housemaid was around, we’d leave him in her care. On other days, we’d carry him in the box in our van and take him along with us.

Winter went by and KC had outgrown the box. A bigger carton would have been ideal, but I had a better idea. Why not in the bedroom, on the bed? My wife wasn’t so sure; what if he peed in bed?

That’s another thing about KC which many don’t know. He did wet the bed on a few occasions. To have him housebreak, I’d take him for walks and get him used to the idea. In no time he was house-trained. When he had the urge, he’d whine to tell us he wanted to go out and ease himself. He never dirtied inside the house ever again.

As a pup KC’s hair was mostly black. But as he grew, the distinctive German Shepherd colours gradually started to appear, the pug-like, small nose face changed, the nose got longer and KC looked taller. He was almost 8 months old and needed lots of exercise, but importantly, he needed professional training.

I called Basavaraj, a police dog trainer, who was referred to me by the Vet.

Filed under: Ranting — Birbal at 11:25 pm on Wednesday, July 27, 2011

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