Of Flatulent dogs and omnipresent nannies

Bruno with macho collar - with effect ruined by tinkling pink bell


So, our labrador, Bruno, has been having an upset stomach for the last couple of days. He is lethargic, a little off colour and has been having episodes of diarrhoea. But the most interesting development is his loud, unselfconcious and incessant farting. Now, I’ve never put much thought into the topic of dog farts but it does lend a new aromatic dimension to watching reruns of ‘ How I met your mother’. I set out to investigate the cause of the above mentioned upset stomach and was informed by the cook that we’ve run out of his regular dog food and he’s been wolfing down human chow for the last couple of days. Now that order has been restored in the world and he is back on Pedigree( Vegetarian, of course) hopefully the mushroom clouds arising from his nether regions will be a thing of the past.


Which brings me to the second part of my post. How dependent are we on our domestic servants ? I am of course, an extreme example. As a child of that glorious institution, the Indian Railways , I find it perfectly normal to live in a house ( or envy inciting colonial Bunglow ) with more domestic staff than family members. Having shrewdly plotted to prolong above shiftless existence, I now live with my in-laws and assorted domestic staff responsible for everything from bringing me my morning Bournvita to giving Bruno his weekly bath. The thing to be noted here is of course that most of these people are paid to do the work which I should be doing in order to justify my existence in the world. One apparently indispensable member of the Delhi household seems to be a young girl of indeterminate age who is fashionably referred to as the Nanny or more realistically as the Ayah. She is pretty easily spotted in most public places but especially in malls, parks and restaurants. Select Citywalk especially seems to attract disproportionate numbers on weekends. Note that as the Delhi nannies are a far cry from the Degree in Child Psychology weilding Park Avenue nannies, they are rarely left alone with their charges. The entourage usually consists of mummy and daddy in front trailed by Nanny with Chikki/ Sweety / Pinki in tow. In cars, mummy and daddy enjoy uninterrupted conversation in front while Nanny wrestles with an unhappy Chikki/ Sweety / Pinki in the back.( Yes, I rudely peer into peoples cars ) In restaurants, mummy and daddy fork sushi while Nanny monitors Chikki/ Sweety / Pinki throwing a tantrum on the floor. Truly ubiquitous. I ,of course would have been oblivious to the existence of the Nanny species had not the question of my acquiring one of my own arisen. Being seven months pregnant and utterly incapable in most domestic duties, even I shudder at the fate of my offspring. For now, I am taking the moral high ground and have decided that I can dispense with the sevices of the omnipresent nanny. Under the implicit agreement that diaper duty will be shared by my husband and two sets of weirdly enthusiastic grandparents to be. Let us toast to the future and hope I am capable of tolerating my own flesh and blood through the course of a Happy Meal without the support of super nanny.