Mochi Ashram Pup

I was at the Ramana ashram. It was about 8am. I was sitting opposite the shrine hall, outside where I sometimes sit. That’s when I spotted a young pup resting against the wall.

Cute little thing, I thought.

One of the cleaner ladies came by and shooed him away, which I didn’t like. He moved a little, then came back and dug himself a small hole to sit in. I sat there watching him. He would’ve only been 8 weeks old. Maybe younger. A sweet black pup with beautiful eyes.

I went over to him and gently knelt down, showing him my hands. He had what looked like scars on his head and nose. I placed my left hand on his head and said a quiet prayer:

“Lord, give this pup strength. Bring him luck. Look after him.”

Then I lifted my hand from his head and decided to get him something to eat. I crossed the road to the grocery store and bought a bucket of curd. I came back, sat next to him, and offered it. He sat still for a while, then slowly came over and had some.

As I was sitting there, a friend of mine came out of the library and walked over. She also loves animals.

“What happened?” she asked.

“It’s a new devotee of Ramana,” I said with a smile. “He has markings on his head.”

She looked closely and told me he had mange. He needed a vet. Another older lady came over and said the same. “If he’s not treated, he’ll slowly die.”

I watched him try to scratch the sore spot on his head by rubbing it in the dirt. It was clearly itchy and hurting him.

Okay, I thought. It’s time to serve.

I crossed the road and got a cloth bag. I came back and looked around the ashram for him. “Hey boy,” I called. He ran away, scared. I kept following him until he finally stopped and let me pat him. I tried putting him in the bag, but he didn’t like it and bolted again.

People were watching me chase this puppy everywhere. At one point, one of the ashram staff started yelling at him and threw a massive stick, nearly hitting him. The puppy ran, terrified.

Here was a man serving at Ramana Ashram, Ramana Maharshi being his true boss, and he chose to throw a stick at Ramana himself, in this little pup form. I let that thought rest and focused on the puppy.

Eventually, I sat back down near him. One kind man came up to me.

“This puppy trusts you,” he said, “but he doesn’t like the bag.”

“Yeah, I know. But I have to get him to the vet. He’s only young, he’ll die otherwise.”

He offered to help. “I’ll get some biscuits,” he said.

While I sat with the pup, he looked like he wanted to walk away. I silently prayed, “Please stay until you’re seen by the vet.”

Suddenly, a young girl came over.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Hello,” I replied.

“This is my friend,” she said, kneeling down to pat the pup. “He showed up yesterday for the first time. I named him Mochi.”

“Mochi?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a Japanese dessert,” she said confidently.

“I’ve never heard of it,” I replied.

She looked at me like I was an idiot and shook her head like I was hopeless. Classic.

“How old are you?” I asked, smiling.

“Nine,” she said proudly.

Her mum came over, smiling too. I said hi and waved.

Then the girl said, “I’ll go get him some biscuits, my mum has some.”

“Sure,” I said.

She walked off just as the kind man returned also holding biscuits. He laughed when he saw the girl with her stash.

They crumbled the biscuits and tried to lure him into the bag again. But one of the ashram staff came up and said, “He doesn’t like bags. You’ll have to carry him.”

All good, I thought.

I left my meditation chair on the ground. “What about the chair?” the kind man asked.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “God will look after it.”

He said he’d come with me. I picked up the pup and we walked out of the ashram.

We flagged a tuk-tuk. The driver initially refused “No dogs,” he said. But then, seeing the situation, he changed his mind. “He can come if he sits on your lap.”

“Okay,” I said.

The kind man paid for the ride, and I jumped in with the puppy on my lap. “Thank you,” I said.

We arrived at the vet. The wait was about 10 minutes. I asked the driver if he could wait

“No problem,” he replied calmly.

Outside the clinic, I saw a man with his baby cow, another puppy tied to a tree, and dogs hooked to IV drips on outdoor benches. We waited. After two German Shepherds were treated, we were called in.

“What happened?” the vet asked.

“I just want him checked, he has some strange marks on his head.”

The vet took some tissue, rolled it into a ball, and dabbed the area. A pocket of pus burst. “Looks like a dog bite,” he said. He applied different creams to his wounds, gave him two injections, and handed me a sheet with five more scheduled. He asked if I could give medicine.

“I can, but I found this pup at Ramana Ashram,” I explained.

“Ramana Ashram,” he smiled. “Okay.”

I thanked him, paid the driver 100 rupees, and returned to the ashram.

Last time I’d helped a pup, my friend Krithin had administered the medication. I didn’t feel confident doing that part myself. As luck would have it, Krithin was sitting at the chai shop out front.

I asked if he could help, and he agreed instantly. I thanked him. He gave the pup the tablet, and I brought the pup back to the spot I found him. He curled up and went to sleep.

I messaged my friend with a “puppy update.” I always seemed to be with a puppy when I ran into her. She replied warmly but said I probably wouldn’t see him again.

Maybe, I thought.

I laid down on my bed to have a rest for a few hours. As I settled in, I suddenly realised I had 10 rupees in my pocket. I must have short-changed the driver and only given him 90 instead of 100. I had to find him and make it right.

I left home just before 2 and headed to the ashram. On the scooter ride over, I spotted the driver pulled over on the side of the road. I stopped, walked up to him, and handed him the 10 rupees. He smiled and said, “No problem.”

Later that afternoon, I arrived at the ashram and looked for the pup. Nowhere. I sat for a while, prayed, walked around Ramana’s samadhi, then came back and sat at the same spot I’d first seen him.

And then, out of nowhere, I turned to my left and there he was! He poked his head out from some nearby bushes. Looked like he’d found a safe little hideaway. He stepped out briefly, then returned to rest.

The kind man who helped earlier came over, smiling. “How did it go?”

“Great,” I said. “He got medication and injections. I gave him half a tablet today and I have to take him back on these dates.”

We chatted about Ramana and why we’d both come to Tiru. I was surprised to learn he was only 34. He had such wise energy.

He said he’d grabbed my chair and put it in the ashram office. I smiled. “Yeah, I figured something would happen with it.”

He handed me the chair and said he was heading to Annamalai Swami’s samadhi. I thanked him, and he left.

Right after he walked off, the 9-year-old girl reappeared.

“Did the puppy get adopted?” she asked.

“Nah,” I said. “He’s back here.”

She blinked. “But I thought he was getting adopted?”

“No, he lives here,” I said. “He’s in the bushes over there.”

She walked over, found him asleep, and returned beaming. “I gave him some belly rubs.”

I smiled. “Do you have any biscuits? You could give him some.”

“I’ll do it later,” she said, and skipped away.

I sat back and thought about the whole day. I didn’t know what was going to happen, just that I had to try.

And in trying, everything was given.

Mochi got his medication and would most likely survive. I met a good man. A little girl with attitude turned out to care deeply. She even named him, knew his story, and showed up right when she was needed.

When the time comes to serve, you’ll know.

God doesn’t ask for perfection, only that you try your best.

I sat back and smiled.