| Kasaras When I first saw Kasaras, it was winter time and snowing hard, just like it does tonight. He was a small puppy, just a month old and I was a graduate student, trying to get over with my boring life. I fell for that lonesome creature immediately and, as I was twice turned down by the Society for the Animal Rights to adopt a homeless dog, Kasaras seemed to be my last hope. So I took him with me to T., where my studies were, and thus deprived him from the very beginning from his natural shelter and his mother.Little did I know... The first day with Kasaras in the noisy city of T., was just a disaster, but I reckoned that the begining was meant to be tough. The dog seemed to be suffering deeply from the violent change and refused to drink any milk. He was crying continuously, seeking warmth in my lap or in my slippers, folowing me everywhere, unable to stay all alone in the empty apartement. I had classes to attend in university and absolutely no friends that I could trust him with, while I �d be away. Nevertheless, I decided to skip them all and take him to the vet. So I wrapped him in old clothing and we got out in the freezing afternoon. All the way to our destination, people looked sympathetically at Kasaras and smiled politely each time he managed to get his cute little head out of the bunddles, looking back puzzled and astonished. I think that was our best time spent together. The vet vacinated him and diagnosed a slight food poisoning, so he gave me instructions about feeding, a bottle of syrup and we returned home. But it was not meant for both of us to be any easier. During the whole night Kasaras was endlessly crying, vomiting and defecating, unable to relax and sleep, and constantly seeking warmth in my arms. My neighbours knocked on the wall, the first time very discreetely, more anxiously the second one. By dawn he was so exhausted that he finally managed to sleep, all curled up in my open armpit. I was too tormented and shocked to do the same, as my mind was wandering in tremendous speed through the various incidents of the day that passed. Before Kasaras was awake, I had allready made up my mind to take him back to the village. Unfortunately, to return him to his mother would inevitably mean to put him to death, as he was no more wanted there. But I had another alternative to choose,and I took him to my great-grand mother�s cottage house. Sadly to say, this was evidently not for the better, as my story will consequently show. During that time it so happened that many people from the village, of rather progressed age, passed away. Some of them happened to be relatives of mine, and others total strangers. Of course this had nothing to do with Kasaras�s return, who soon got adapted to his new home and masters, and started growing rapidly into a vivid and noisy animal. In fact, he was getting to be so noisy, that my great-grand mother began to have second thoughts about accepting him in her house. This was soon turned into continuous complaining. She strongly believed that the dog was possessed by the dead peoples' souls, that were imprisoned in him and could not get released to heaven. They were , to quote her words, "doomed not to be relieved", as long as the dog was barking in her back yard.So Kasaras had to leave for once more, and I returned from T., to take care of his "departure". But I couldn't even bare the thought that the poor animal had to be killed. So I decided to set him free, as he was then old enough and I took him to the mountains, trying to set him loose.That was in the beginning of srping and I thought that he could manage allright. Kasaras followed my speeding van a long way, but after a while I lost sight of him. And that was the last time that I undisputedly saw him alive. A couple of months passed and, by the time my terminal examinations started, I deemly remembered him at all. But then, a fine morning and as I was getting ready for class , my phone rang and an angry voice started yelling in my ears about lying and provoking the dead spirits. It was my great-grand mother with news of the actual death of Kasaras. He was found in a nearby village,poisoned but still alive. By the time they called the vet, the animal surely must have died, though the carcass was lost. I was deeply moved, but the repulsive voice was still screaming me names from the other end of the line, so I had to hang up the phone. A week later and by the end of the examination period, I decided to spent some time with my elder relatives in my village. I went there to find everybody in a state of anguish and panic. Each and every night they could hear the dog barking in the back yard, but still no actual evidence or trace of the animal . I thought of the whole story as silly and deeply disturbing. I even tried to reason with them, to make them see that it was either impossible for a dead dog to bark, or that Kasaras was not dead after all, and we would soon find him. Then something very peculiar crossed my mind. The only person not complaining or claiming to hear the dog was my very great-grand mother. As I turned to look at her, she reacted as if striken and I saw a strange kind of fear in her eyes, that I was unable to decipher at that time. During the late hours of the night and long after everybody had gone asleep, I clearly heard the dog barking outside. There was no doubt it was Kasaras, but while everybody else was hurrying to the back yard, I headed towards the opposite direction. I went to my great-grand mother's bedroom. As I had imagined, she was sitting awake in her bed, shaking with fear. So I asked her:"You can hear it too, granny, can�t you? Why don�t you say so?" But she just looked back at me in fear. And then I realised that it was the fear of death, of her own death, that made her silently deny the dog's barking. Soon after the dog's noise stopped. The old woman was still sitting straight up in her bed, only this time she was dead. We also found the dog's carcass in the back yard the next day. �. �. |
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