Taking responsibility
July 2011
Lalita, her younger brother, Rahul, and her parents were sitting relaxing in the balcony one lazy Sunday evening.
Down below, some of Lalita’s friends were playing badminton. Suddenly, out came Nandini, her special friend, walking a small puppy on a leash. Lalita looked at the puppy with deep longing. It was the dream of her life to own a dog. She so adored them. They were such loving creatures. She had seen how much Nandini’s puppy, Pogo, loved her. How it licked her face and jumped on her with joy when she came home from school. She had seen how faithfully it sat by her side while she did her homework. Just thinking of Pogo got the saliva flowing in her mouth. She must, she must have a dog. “Mummy,” she said for the nth time, “Please get me a dog. Please. I’ll do anything to get one.” Her brown eyes turned up pleadingly at her parents remarkably resembled the dog she was longing to get.
Her mother said nothing for a while. Then she said. “Ok, you are now 13 years old. I don’t mind letting you have a dog of your own but you have to take responsibility for it.” “What responsibility?” asked Lalita, warily.
“All responsibility,” said her mother firmly. “You will have to make its food; you will have to feed it; you will have to walk it and so on. Are you ready for it?”
“Won’t you help at all?” asked Lalita plaintively. “I might help a little,” said her mother, “but it is your responsibility. So if you are not going to be around to walk the dog, then you need to ask me to do it.”
Lalita quailed. She had never really looked after anyone or anything before, unless nursing her dolls counted. What if she forgot to get the food? Would that mean the dog would starve? She looked down once again at Pogo. He was running like a mad thing round and round in the garden, his ears straining behind him, his tiny body bouncing up and down. She had to have a dog. She made up her mind. When she looked at her mother, her face had a new look of determination. “Ok, mom,” she said, “I will look after the dog.”
Her parents exchanged a smile. Her father reached out and ruffled her hair, and told his wife, “Our little girl is growing up.”
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