Wednesday, May 7, 2014



My pet girl Sherry is very ill.

She is in the veterinary hospital.

Today, my son has taken her to hospital.

I was with her yesterday, and the doctor said we will have to bring Sherry to the hospital for a few days, so since I live far away, I left her with my son who lives nearer to the veterinary hospital.

But that is just one reason – maybe the real reason is that I cannot bear to see Sherry in pain.

It all happened so suddenly – on Sunday evening we went for our customary evening walk in Wakad Park, where she played quite normally.

On Monday morning, Sherry seemed quite lethargic – she did not wake me up early in the morning, and then when I took her out for her morning walk to the park, she seemed quite tired and unenthusiastic, and indicated to me that she wanted to go home.

I was worried.

I brought her home.

She drank water and lay down.

She looked tired.

I thought it was because of the oppressive summer heat of Pune.

I bathed and came out.

Normally, Sherry would greet me in a vigorous manner, when I came out of the bathroom, since this meant another walk to buy milk from the store.

Instead, Sherry kept lying down and she looked at me in a certain way.

The look in their eyes, the expression on her face, her sad body language her, and just one wag of her tail instead of vigorous wagging – all this got me alarmed, and fearful.

We rushed her to the vet.

The vet did blood tests – poor thing – she has pancreatitis, severe diabetes, and with every moment Sherry is getting worse.

I can’t bear to see her like this.

Ever since Sherry came into my life 8 years ago, in May 2006, she has only given me moments of love and happiness.

I haven’t been separated for her even for a day and have come home to her every night (except once or twice when she was alone with my wife at night).

I spent hours playing with her – and we went on at least to mandatory long walks every day, in the morning and in the evening, wherever we were, in the forests of Aundh Camp, in the hills of Girinagar, and now, on the banks of the Mula river.

Can you imagine, ever since Sherry came into my life 8 years ago, I haven’t fallen sick even one single day, since I could not miss my walks with her.

Today is the first morning in 8 years that Sherry and I have not had our customary daily morning walk.

Instead of being with me in the park, Sherry is on a drip in the veterinary hospital.

I am feeling terrible.

I love Sherry very much.

In 2007, I did not go to Mumbai, for better career prospects, but opted to live all alone with Sherry in a desolate place called Girinagar, just because I wanted to be with Sherry (our Navy Officers Mess in Mumbai does not allow pet dogs).

I avoided outstation assignments because I could not leave Sherry alone in Girinagar (since my wife had to live in Pune during the week because of her job).

I have refused lucrative job offers because I wanted to be with Sherry.

I love Sherry that much.

I am feeling sad, very sad – but there is nothing I can do about it.

I don’t know whether Sherry will get well and become hale and heart as she was before – or whether she is going to cross “RainbowBridge”

So to try and divert my mind, I thought I will re-post a few blogs I had written about Sherry and me – in happier times.

Here are some memories of Sherry as a puppy (I first posted this on 23 March 2012 - on puppy day).


I read somewhere that today the 23rd of March is PUPPY DAY. Well, I have heard of all sorts of DAYS but this was the first time I heard of a PUPPY DAY.

So on the occasion of PUPPY DAY I think it would be apt to post something written by my pet Doberman X Girl Sherry long back when she was a puppy.

Sherry says BOW WOW to you and wishes all Puppies A HAPPY PUPPY DAY

My Name is Sherry
Childhood Memories of a Doberman X Girl
Sherry Karve

Hi Dear Human Friends. 
Bow Wow.
Please have a look at some of my pictures.



                                            SCRUB AND WASH

                             BATH WARM MILK THEN CURL UP ON MY BROTHER'S LAP


By the way, I am a budding writer too.
Here is my first piece of writing which I wrote when I was only seven months old. Now I am ... well never ask a girl's age ...

Sherry Karve Profile Picture

Do tell me if you like my story and pictures. If you do then I will post some more about my delightful life.


Relaxing on the lush green lawn of my Bungalow
My name is Sherry. Sherry Karve. I am a naughty young girl, I’m over seven months old and I live with my family in a lovely spacious bungalow surrounded by plenty of greenery. 

Baby Sherry cuddled up on her brother's lap

I wake up early in the morning, jump off my sofa, go to my father’s bed, rub my cold wet nose against his hand and give him a loving lick with my warm soft tongue.

He grunts and growls and opens his sleepy eyes, and the moment he sees me his face lights up and he lovingly caresses me and says, “Good Morning, Sherry.” The he gets up from bed and opens the main door to let me jump out into the garden. First I do my ‘little job’ at my favorite place near the mango tree. Then I generally dig with my paws in the soft morning mud and sniff around with my keen beautiful black nose to find out if there are any new morning smells, not forgetting to run and welcome the milkman the moment he comes on his cycle.

When I return I find that my father is back in his bed and my mother is up and about. She pats and cuddles me and goes about her business making tea in the kitchen while I loiter around the house.

She surreptitiously sneaks to the bedroom and slyly hands over a tidbit to my half-sleeping father under the blanket when she thinks I am not looking. 

I pretend not to notice, as I do not want to spoil their fun. Earlier, when I was small and impatient, I used to snuffle out the tidbit from my father’s hand, but this spoilt his fun and he became grumpy. 

Now that I am a mature young girl well experienced in the ways of the human world and I have realized that it is better to act dumb and let these humans think they are smarter than me. 

So I go outside, sit down and put on a look of anticipation towards the gate and pretend not to notice my mother hiding and peeping through the corner of the window and giggling to herself.

                                 Hey, Look at the eerie glow in my eyes - Scary Sherry

The moment the newspaperman comes on his cycle and shouts ‘paper’, I rush to the gate and fetch the newspaper in my mouth, gripping it just right between my teeth, and hold it up to my horizontal father, who gets up, takes the paper from me and gives me the dog-biscuit he’s been hiding in his hand, as my mother, who has rushed behind me, watches me with loving pride in her eyes. 

Getting the Newspaper for my Dad
My brother and my sister, who till now were fast asleep in the other room, call out my name – “Sherry! Sherry!” – and as I dart between their beds wagging my tail, they both hug and cuddle me all over saying, “Good Morning, Sherry. Sherry is a good girl!”   Everyone is cheerful and happy and my day has begun!
I love my family, even though they are humans; and I love my house, my surroundings, the place I stay, the life I live – but before I tell you all that, let me tell you where I came from.

Posing with my Dad with a bit of my camera-shy Mummy in the background

My ‘birth-mother’ is a ferocious Doberman who lives in a bungalow in Kothrud in Pune and my ‘dog-father’ is unknown, though they suspect it may be the Mudhol Hound next door, yes, from the sleek way I look and my temperament  it is most likely the same Mudhol Caravan Hound who lurks in the neighbourhood. For making my registration papers the vet wanted proof, so in the column against Breed he wrote ‘Doberman X’.

I was a sickly weakling, hardly a month old, the only girl, last of the litter of eleven, and the owners were wondering what to do with me. 


Ugly. Sickly. Weak. Unwanted.

And I was a girl.

Nine of my handsome brothers had already been selected and taken away, and the owners wanted to keep the tenth, the most beautiful and healthy of them all. 

They had kept me all alone separated from my ferocious Doberman mother who was growling menacingly in a cage nearby. 

No one wanted me and I could hear people whispering how ugly and weak I was and I wondered what fate lay in store for me. 

It felt bed and hurt to be unwanted and when I heard people talking about sending me away to a farmhouse, or wanting to ‘dispose’ me of, I felt terrified and shivered with fright as I wondered what was going to be my destiny.

One evening a few people came over and a gentle woman with kindness in her eyes looked at me, and on the spur of the moment lovingly picked me up, and the way she tenderly snuggled me I felt true love for the first time. 

This was my new mother. 

She took me securely and lovingly in her soft hands, got into a car and they all drove across Pune, past Aundh, across the Mula River, till we reached a bungalow. 

The kind woman was wondering what her husband’s reaction would be. 

It was dark and scary. 

I was terribly frightened and I cuddled up snugly my mother’s arms to feel safer. 

Suddenly I found a tough-looking bearded man looking at me. 

Shivering with fear I looked back at him in terror as he extended his hands towards me. 

But the moment he held me in his large cozy hands, caressed me lovingly, and put his finger tenderly in my mouth, I felt protected, loved, safe and secure.

This was my new father and he had already decided my name – Sherry – the same name of his earlier canine ‘daughter’. 

By the way ‘Sherry’ means ‘beloved’ – not the wine drink you are thinking about...!

“She was destined to come here,” my mother said.

“Yes,” my father said feeding me warm milk.

Baby Sherry
My Daddy and Mummy made a nice warm bed for me in a basket and put it below theirs. 

And as I drifted into sleep, they both fondled me with their hands. 

I felt so wonderful and happy for the first time in my life. I had found my true home and my family.

Sherry sleeping peacefully in her Den
I am feeling quite sleepy now so I’ll end here and have a nap in my den.

If you want to know more about me, my delightfully mischievous life, and the naughty things I do, please let me know and I’ll tell you all about it...! 

Till then, here is picture of my Dad and Me. This photo was clicked, I think, when I was about 9 months old

                               ALL SMILES - MY DAD AND ME

Dear Reader: Please pray for Sherry - she needs your prayers and wishes to get well soon

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