The Three-Legged Dog

The Army is a great meeting ground and I love it for this . After every single trip, I come back a more enlightened person. On one such sojourn, we had to take a midway break at one of the military stations on the Jammu-Pathankot highway. The Commanding Officer (CO) of the Regiment at that location, was bestowed with a great sense of humor. What I found delightfully refreshing was that for once, my husband's rank did not come in the way of our conversation. Otherwise more often than not, between seniors and juniors, it is usually a short, courteous, crisp exchange of pleasantries.

Most of us may have come across at some point in our lives, some freaky instances of the kind, I am about to narrate. When such situations stare starkly in our faces without prior warning , we do get a trifle disconcerted wondering whether these instances were tailor made specially for us.

The Army is very well known for its perfection in the execution of any task, military or administrative. In case you have closely observed a marching contingent, you would have noticed men almost of the same height , in proper uniform, heads tilted at the same angle. Hence it won't surprise you if I say that during the visit of a Senior Officer to a Regiment, everything would be ship shape without a ruffle. In fact, there is someone or the other overseeing the minutest detail. Squeaky clean porcelain, sparkling silver, stiffly starched Damask, are all usual. Even if it is a dry, parched area you won't be surprised to find a freshly laid out garden with a stately fountain spring up overnight! But in perfect detailing, there may be also blundering; depending on how the stars are positioned that day. It would not be a bad idea to read 'what the stars foretell' before choosing such an important date!

Many a time,when things do go wrong, it can really be catastrophic especially when everyone is all set to put their best foot forward. Prior to a VIP visit to a Regiment,  there is a flurry of activity. From nowhere is a meteoric shower of some weird characters, you may otherwise not be privileged to encounter on a normal day. A 'safaiwalla' with a long witch's broom looking for fallen leaves on a swanky drive way, just as the VIP convoy is turning into the gate; the most ill turned out sepoy ( left with a faint hint of olive green on his fatigues) pops out of the chaos, when he should not have been anywhere around; a washer man with a big paunch, yielding a threatening Kalashnikov at a prominent gate (an honor bestowed on him for that day by the aliens!); a sweaty, hassled cook running in a frenzy trying to locate the Mess Secretary to report that the potatoes for the cutless (read cutlets) have not arrived! Despite the racing heart beats and a nervous Adjutant trying to tuck in all such sore thumbs behind bushes, the noisy pesky fly shows up just in time to hover around the General's teapot!

I wondered whether these ajeeb (strange) instances happened only to a chosen few or whether others too had their share of such luck. Finally, all my doubts were put to rest and nailed firmly into the coffin when I spoke to this gentleman. The conversation that sunny, wintry morning went like this. Said the CO to me, that every General Officer visiting brought with him his slice of luck. He narrated how in his Regiment, every time a VIP arrived, there was  a prominent occurrence of a three legged dog appearing from nowhere right in front of the VIP, to be only seen subsequently at the next VIP visit.

The CO Saheb(sir) recounted how this ghostly doggone nuisance manifested the last time their GOC (General Officer Commanding) visited. The old man fatigued after a long drive through the wilderness, was trying to steal his last twenty winks when the flag car (VIP car) entered the pristine gates of the Regiment which still reeked of fresh paint. True to military ethos, no stone was left unturned for the visit, including white washing several blades of fresh green grass to showcase the Regiment's high standards!

All of a sudden there was a jarring sound of brakes. The old man in the rear seat had a rude jolt as though he was thrown off a precipice in a horrid dream. He forced open his droopy eyelids as wide as he could, only to see the three legged dog standing in the middle of the driveway, frantically being chased away by a dolt with a twig in his hand! Needless to say, the day did not begin on a great note. The CO became discursive, with beads of sweat on his brow almost forgetting his opening sentence.

Finally while departing, the GOC could not hold himself back. As a parting shot to the CO he said, "Look friend, in case you do insist on keeping a dog in this Regiment, at least keep one with all four legs!!"