Adieu my dear Simba, welcome Tommy

Sitting here on a train in Germany with the white landscape passing by and looking out into the cold landscape I am but yet moved finally to write about Simba my companion who has left my side after 13 long years and whose bereavement I have tried to come to terms with on my month-long journey through USA meeting family, friends and driving through vistas,  imagining how would it have been to walk together in these wild yet romantic landscapes.  

Simba was very special from the very beginning standing out among all the canines ever to have called Dhole’s Den home.  

He was one who could catch a bird in mid-flight, bark at elephants forcing them to flee and freeze the blood in many a vein by just standing with his tail curled upwards. At the same time, he had his mother’s eyes, googly eyes that could melt a heart away and wag his tail and become a puppy before the person whom he loved.  

A true blood champion Chippiparai hound from the Shaka and Zulu fame, whose offspring he was, younger brother to Jabu Senior and restless one among the two of them. That in short describes Simba.  

To me he was gentle, caring, utmost loving companion, a friend, my child. He like his dad had a demeanour and attitude that even put assurance in me. So much so that I said many a time that the only two things I trust with all confidence is my left hand and Simba’s bite. Both are sure to work. And its lonesome now missing his being near and so this piece which aims to tell its readers who stumble upon this, about his life, times, position in our life and in the annals of Dhole’s Den, our jungle abode in Bandipur born out one desire to answer the Call of the Wild. 

The year was 2010 and I was awaiting the birth of Zulu’s pups. Litte did I realise that the time I had taken off from Germany for introspection and to look forward to Zulu’s offspring would be a year that would give me a lesson in many a trait of human imperfections loyalty and trust being the two which I would come to treasure so much as being omnipresent in canines and hardly recognisable among the two legged creatures that populate this cruel world.  

That year and the next decided what was to become the defining months of my life and Simba was to be not just a worthy successor to Shaka but someone to leave a legacy.  

Simba’s birth itself was an event that happened at 02.30 am on 12th August 2010. After his brother Jabu was born already and remained a full 3 hours with his mother, Simba decided to arrive, shaking me from my slumber. He was the more active one as we realised in the days that followed. Jabu his brother was a dreamer and would forget probably why he was wriggling on his mum’s belly and doze off whilst Simba new exactly that he was there for the milk bar and upon finding the right position kicked away and made the sounds of satisfaction while suckling. That was the reason why we named him Simba.  

I had found or hoped that I had found the right home for Simba and his brother Jabu on the outskirts of Bangalore on a farm. And I did visit them a couple of times on my way to Bangalore. On one of those occasions, I was moved so much by them running after me, still not having forgotten me. It must have been one of those moments where countenance seemed to have left me after what I was going through that year that emotions flowed unhindered and with it tears. I still remember vividly as I had no energy and just sat down on the earth. Jabu was nervous as to what was happening and wagged his tail but Simba, probably knew what had overcome me and liked my face, my tears, and my pain. 

Coming back with him and his brother to Dhole’s Den just before he turned a year old and started to live on the grounds, we realised soon that they were meant to be theirs. The intermezzo had had an end.  

Playing on the land of Shaka and Zulu we enjoyed 2 years wherein Simba initially accepted Shaka’s authority, and we were happy about it, but you wouldn’t be Shaka’s son if you didn’t challenge that. Jabu was smarter, he accepted Shaka’s authority till Shaka’s bitter demise, But Simba wanted to be in the driver’s seat always and the inevitable had to happen. He had to rebel and, in the end, become bitter enemies. Shaka wouldn’t share me with him, and Simba had decided he had arrived to take charge. 

The rivalry that ensued made sure that Simba was confined to his room. New as we were as dog parents we thought this would be the right approach. Until we realised that he howled each night to be united with us and we decided you to move him in a new space next to his brother Jabu, that finally brought in the much-needed peace in all our lives.   

Both grew up as the finest Chippiparais that the world had seen. Dog sport awarded them with medals, and both became champions. Jabu was the darling with everyone, but it took something different from people who could meet and see eye to eye with Simba. He had this innate ability to test ones resolve and steadfastness. Unlike his dad Shaka who had a subdued growl Simba would give a confident bark and see if the person would stand his ground. If he did Simba would approach him or her smell and just leave.  

We did have instances when the visitors and family reacted differently and had to visit the doctor fearing consequences from a bite.  

Years passed by and with the departure of our beloved Shaka to kidney disease the two brothers ruled the den, Jabu being the cool boy and Simba the one who had to speak his mind. Jabu left us all too suddenly in 2019 and had sired a fine boy whom we promptly named Jabu who had to accept Simba’s authority.  

That was the case for 3 years or so when Jabu Junior decided that enough was enough and he would assert his position too. He occupied after all the space on the bed next to the mistress of the house. A complex arrangement followed in which I moved from one room to another, sometimes sleeping even in the lounge at Ekant far away from the main house. The result of all that exercise is little private room at the edge: Simba’s Den. 

In all his interactions he was so much like me, wanting a bit more always and assertive of who he was. His name came second always after Jabu, but till this day staff and visitors alike remember him and times as Simba’s Times. Many would have heard that the Veterinarian is someone the dogs are scared off but my friend your vet was probably scared to his bones, escaping to the washroom while you gathered from the sound of his car that he had arrived and stood outside his door challenging him to step out. My boy Simba personified a Katana wielding Samurai who knew no fear and would challenge anything that had dared to stand up to him.  

The last time we had a celebration of his 13th birthday with some tendons not as strong as before and we coaxed him to take the lift to reach the ground floor. He accepted the lift as a necessary beast of burden that got him to the grounds you ruled as king.  

Samurais get old sadly and age caught on with him too and after an operation where we feared a tumour that had caused to have fits, we finally realised it was his heart, and we worked together that it may beat strong and healthy. We pulled on till 13 years, a senior you had become.  

The inevitable event of his passing was a day I wish had never dawned. He was weak and shaky and after being out for a morning walk and after having administered his regular medication, I knew by noon something was amiss and in my desperation I said: Simba, just get well fast, Papa can’t see you suffer and struggle to which he replied with yhis signature flick of the tongue on my nose… 

Hoping for the best but not taking any chances as Ingrid was away, I called my friend the vet who made it to Bandipur on a Sunday and managed to inject vitamins and other supportive medication.  

Dinner was brought up and to my happiness he finished it off and I excused myself to visit the construction site that was to be the residence of our parents. On my return I found he had moved to his usual position on my bed and greeted me as always with the tail making the sound of a whip on a mattress and I said to you: Papa needs to grab a bite Simba, he is hungry, take rest I will be back after dinner. Little did I know that those would be the last words shared between us.  

It was quite some time that my friend Dr. Jayaram and I had managed to have a meal together and shared a drink and thus happy from the meal and the good whiskey I climbed up and called out Zulu as usual. I soon realised Simba was on the floor, motionless and upon touching his cold body all I could bring out was a cry for the doctor who rushed in and diagnosed with no delay that it was a massive heart attack and nothing in the room was amiss. His mother Zulu seemed to have just rested on her bed as death had sneaked into my room.  

The staff came, looked at him and left me with Zulu who promptly slept and Simba lying there in state on my bed where I could cover him and caress him. The years we had together flashed before me and each time his eyes looked at me as he always did full of trust with no motive but sheer love in them.  

How could he just leave me with no goodbyes being said? What’s the meaning of saying goodbye then when one just gets up and walks.  

Ingrid had rushed back with her friend, and we laid him to rest next to his brother Jabu Senior and as a goodbye I played Red Warrior, from the film The Last Samurai, a piece fitting for a warrior that he truly was.  

In hindsight I tend to think it was his wish to just take his own decision and not wait to say a final goodbye which would have been equally painful. He wanted to spare me the pain in his own way as I would have been out of my senses to see my child suffer. Even when he had killed a cat and got seriously injured in the melee, we realised it was the chicks in a nest in the neighbouring bush that he had ended up saving from the cat who was on the prowl for just them and ended up earning the title Simba the Savior.  

A week after I returned from Germany in December 2023, we had to say goodbye to Zulu who in her own way had seemed to wait for me. She was the hound who made me a father in the true sense and didn’t possibly want to leave after all the years of being a child to this at times lost, sentimental and drifter dad of hers.  

What but followed a month later was something even I hadn’t imagined. One afternoon walking with Jabu Junior and the girls Jameela, Thabisa and Ulinda, I walked towards the final resting place of Simba. The stones still piled up and a couple off them even had the vermillion from his final ceremony. I stopped and unable to hold my emotions said: Simba Papa misses you and it must be all cold there underneath lying all by oneself. My intonation was filled with pathos and as if Jabu Junior would have understood every word of mine he replied from behind my back, and I didn’t really need much time to understand what he said.  He seemed to say I am here, and you are not alone, remember that. 

A couple of days later I planned a visit to the construction site to enjoy a beer with my partner and update her on the progress made. I pulled into the farm and opened the big SUV that I drove, and my eyes instantly fell upon a pup that had sat just where I opened the door and I ended up asking: Hey Hello Who are you, my boy? It was obvious to us the pup was emaciated and probably hungry. He was offered food which he didn’t refuse, and we knew that is what he wanted.  

Grabbing him with a towel we set out to Gundlupet so we could show him to the vet and make sure he has a good start in life, returning well after dark and left after making him comfortable at the farm. The next morning started with bathing him and getting rid of some 75 ticks that he had everywhere on his little body.  No wonder he was so lean, they were sucking his blood! 

Some more care and good food and the pup was growing, and it was our daily ritual now to feed him and Zoey who lived on the farm since quite some time. Playful as he was racing through the farm, chasing chicken and pulling Zoey’s ear, he was rowing up to be the king of the farm. A place that hadn’t had a reigning superstar and filling the void not just in the realm that he had so easily conquered but also our hearts.  

Remembering Simba with thankfulness that he allowed us in his life and reminiscing about him and his times two years after his flight to the rainbow bridge is… 

Simba’s Dad Karthik