February 17, 2026

It was a cold and chilling night in the Western Ghats region of Kalasa. I was still a small boy then, and we had a big house. The house stood isolated from the main road, surrounded by our estate. During the daytime, workers would come and go; there was noise and liveliness. But at night, there was only darkness and silence.

Electricity was unreliable, and the bulbs we had were just enough to recognize a face. For a small boy like me, nights were always scary — and there were several reasons for that.

Unfortunately, I had just lost my father. My elder siblings had moved to the city for their schooling and were staying in a boarding school. Losing a father at such a young age is a heavy loss. It is the age when a child begins to understand the world. Growing up with my mother’s immense love was comforting, but I deeply missed a father’s guidance.

Staying in the estate without my father became even more difficult for other reasons. The old traditions of showing great respect to landlords were slowly fading. Leftist ideologies had been adopted by some workers, and the oppressed were now protected by law and people’s support — which was good. But change also brought side effects. Loyal workers became fewer, and we had to search for new labourers. Development always comes with consequences. Theft of coffee beans and crops increased. Even sandalwood trees were cut and sold on the black market. Those thieves would roam freely, no longer needing to work hard for daily wages.

The Malnad region had also just come out of the fear that surrounded Dacoit Ripper Chandran. Fear was still fresh in people’s minds.

One such night, I was trying to sleep in my room. Because our house was huge, we always worried whether every door was properly closed. I would keep calling my mother to make sure she was awake until I checked every corner and locked every door. The biggest challenge was the main door — we had a large front porch and open windows covered only with thin cloth curtains. I would scarily imagine ghosts standing outside.

My father, when he was alive, was a well-known helping person in the village. Many people would come to him with their struggles. I heard from my siblings that in a few tragic incidents, some even died while waiting for treatment or transportation to a hospital. As a child, I would imagine their spirits lingering near our house.

That night, after finally closing the doors and getting into bed, sudden loud knocks on the door shook me. My mother and I looked at each other. Who could it be at this hour?

We went together to open the door.

It was Uncle Jemma — our saviour — who visited us every Sunday to make sure we were safe. But he had brought a surprise guest.

A dog.

A well-built, strong Alsatian named Jimmy. He was tall — almost reaching my chest. To my small self, he looked like a giant.

Uncle knew we needed protection. That was his arrangement.

From the very next day, everything changed.

Though I had lost that part of my childhood to fear after my father’s loss, isolation, loneliness, and school bullying, I found myself again through Jimmy. He came into my life to fill the days I had lost. Mornings were joyful; evenings were exciting because he would wait for me to return from school. I no longer rushed to sleep before my mother. I could stay awake with Jimmy by my side. Closing the main door no longer required my mother’s constant alertness.

Months passed, and the fear, isolation, loneliness, and emptiness began to disappear.

I could roam around the estate at night with a small torch because Jimmy was with me. School bullying stopped. Friends would stand near our gate just to catch a glimpse of our brave dog. My siblings came home and found a new passion in the house — Jimmy.

My uncle had not just brought a dog. He had brought an angel into my life.

But thieves never miss an opportunity, especially when expensive trees are involved. That too, when they found nowhere else to steal from.

One night, around 3 a.m., I heard a noise. I grabbed my torch and stepped outside. I noticed something moving in the estate. I called out, “Jimmy!” There was no response. I thought he might be sleeping and didn’t want to disturb him.

As I moved further, my heart sank. Expensive trees had been cut — only branches remained on the floor; the core had been taken away. I searched for more damage and found a few trees in the same condition.

Then I saw him.

Jimmy lay on the ground, screaming and moaning in pain.

It felt as if the sky had fallen on me.

I didn’t know what to do. I called my mother for help. I just wanted someone to save Jimmy. Veterinary doctors were rare in those days. I didn’t even know if one existed in the nearby town. But I had a strong urge.

I ran.

Eight kilometres to the nearest town — in the dark.

When I reached there, a tea stall had just opened. I asked about a doctor. Convincing them that I needed a veterinary doctor took precious minutes. Finally, someone guided me to the government quarters. I knocked on a door. An elderly man opened it.

“Whom have you brought with you?” he asked.

“Nothing, sir. My dog is dying at home.”

“Do you have a vehicle?” he asked, noticing my breathless state.

I nodded, and he understood the urgency. He told me to arrange a vehicle, as he and his assistant needed to come.

I ran again to the town centre, looked for a rented vehicle. After some refusals, a known person agreed to bring his jeep. We rushed back home.

All along the way, I could think of nothing but Jimmy.

When we arrived, my mother had laid him on the porch. Her face was pale.

The doctor examined Jimmy with his stethoscope, whispered something to his assistant, and flushed something out of Jimmy’s mouth. Then he injected medicine.

While drinking the tea my mother had prepared, the doctor said, “He has been poisoned. It will take some time, but we have given the injection. He should regain consciousness.”

As the jeep drove away, I stood there — once a frightened little boy, now filled with the power of having run through the night to save his best friend. I had done what anyone could do for his best friend, Jimmy.

I held Jimmy’s leg and waited for him to wake up.