Woof woof!

Another piece of I-miss-you-my-love knowing perfectly well that she ain't going to read it. Barking gingerly, looking confusedly at the new surroundings and of-course, scared of your new master you entered my house. Couldn't find your mommy and brothers and sisters, could you? I felt bad for you but I was too happy to notice anything. You were mine. Born on my birthday. A Perfect birthday gift. I was occupied with the thoughts of convincing mum and dad about keeping you. I conjured up the story, I am good at it. It tickled their kind heart. How could a puppy lying by the roadside be so cute? they thought. "She must be missing her mother", mum said as she held you tightly. I love the way I lie. Sweet lies. Partly because I didn't want them to look at you as an additional burden. I was enough, wasn't I?
I had to teach you everything. Where to sleep, where to poop, where to eat, what to eat, when to eat, when not to bark. And yes, I hated it sometimes as you were very very unmanageable. But I could understand what mum had to go through in raising me. Coffee told me NOT to take you on the bed at nights, just in case you develop the habit and forget that you are a dog. Sorry for not picking you up when you used to cry. Sorry for pulling your tail when you used to sleep at the door of bedroom. But I had to. What if someone trod on you by accident?
Then I taught you how to jump. Bribed you into it, one pedigree grain for every successful jump. People used to watch you in awe. You were too young to start jumping. Everything was awesome. You were a pleasant change for me as somehow I didn't waste my time sitting on computer playing games. I spent a lot of time with you. You used to get up with me at 3 am and used to sleep with me too, crouching under my arms. I used to feel good. You never barked on me or bit me even though I used to lift you up by your tail, pull your ears or clamp your mouth with hands until you choked. Yes, I was cruel but I wanted you to hate me. I wasn't going to be with you, my parents were. I allowed them to treat you like a child. They brought you dresses, they treated you like a princess. Proudly invited people to see their new girl.
You loved them back. Every evening you stood by the door or in the gallery eagerly waiting for them. You madly licked their face when they used to come and you madly dashed from room to room when I used  come back from college. That was true love.
Then the day to leave you came. I was sad for I loved you a little too much. But I was happy that you'd not miss me as my parents started loving you at times more than they loved me. Why wouldn't they? You loved them back. I never showed how much I loved them. I was always rude on the surface as I can't express my love.
But you taught me many things. You made me calm. Playing with you was worth 1000 times more fun than hanging out at the after-college social gatherings . I regret not spending the last birthday with you and instead going at a useless get-together of which I hated every single second. I am sorry. But hey, I did bring you gifts didn't I? Even my close friends came to visit you. Because of you my sister could bring home 2 new dogs. Aunt hated dogs but you were too cute to hate and your presence paved way for not one but two dogs. So, thank you again.

Seeing you daily on skype makes me happy. I love to hear what you do. Love the way my parents are treating you. But I don't know how to thank you for filling my space in that house. Mum would have cried daily if you weren't there. Now she's more worried about you not eating than me not being there. And I don't mind. All we need is love and you are lovely.
I am sad that today I am not there to give you birthday bumps or to take you on the terrace of our building and hold you out to scare you. But yup, I love you. I cry at nights, like I have this tear rolling down my cheek while writing this. People say that you'd have forgotten me by now. But I am damn sure, you'd be missing me too. Soon we shall meet. Can't wait for it. Happy birthday precious. Special you are.