There was this little dog, for a short time.
The soldier-doctor got it when he went back to Kargil on one of the rare breaks he was allowed to recharge, see family, remember what it was like to exist outside of a war zone.

He’d never been much of an animal person, but he didn’t know how to say no when his aunt brought the little dog to him, Jimmy, after buying it from a market.

“Aiyee, you need company out there,” she said, stroking his arm. “I can’t imagine how awfully lonely you must be. You need a friend.”

It was a beautiful dog with the fluffiest tail, all bunched up at the back, and an inquisitive face that seemed to question him every time he looked at it. He picked it up and it immediately licked his face, and he felt a strange kind of warm relief.
A German shepherd to the highest level of immaturity.

So off he went back to the trenches, now with a little dog following behind.

Months passed and he doesn't remember the dog’s name now, or whether he even gave it one.

The days and nights were the same long, uncertain but when he burrowed underground at night to sleep, there the dog was, a snug little body, a heartbeat on his. He grew fond of the dog, even...