Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen : The Little Bodyguard

Topsy was naughty.

There was no doubt about that.

He could turn an ordinary day into complete chaos without even trying. One minute he would be sitting quietly as if he had done nothing wrong, and the next minute he would be running around the house, disturbing everyone and somehow making us laugh at the same time.

But underneath all that mischief was something that made him incredibly special to me.

He was protective.

Especially when it came to me.

I don't know exactly when I first noticed it. Maybe it had always been there, hidden underneath his playful nature. But as I grew older and spent more time with him, I began to realize that Topsy paid attention to me in a way I had never really noticed before.

Whenever Maa scolded me, Topsy somehow seemed to know.

I don't know how he knew.

Maybe he recognized my voice changing.

Maybe he understood the expression on my face.

Or perhaps he simply knew that something was wrong because he knew me so well.

Whatever the reason, he didn't like seeing me upset.

Sometimes, when Maa was scolding me, Topsy would suddenly come running into the room.

He would look at me first.

Then he would look at Maa.

And before I even realized what he was doing, he would walk straight between us.

Right in the middle.

As if his little body could somehow become a shield.

He wasn't a big dog.

He wasn't frightening.

He couldn't actually stop anyone from scolding me.

But he didn't seem to care about that.

He would simply stand there.

Sometimes he would look up at Maa with the most serious expression, as though he had something very important to say.

And sometimes, if the scolding continued, he would bark.

One bark.

Then another.

It almost sounded like he was saying,

“Don't scold her.”

Or perhaps,

“That's enough.”

Of course, he couldn't actually speak.

But at that moment, it didn't feel like he needed to.

His actions said enough.

The funny thing was that Topsy didn't always understand whether I was actually in trouble or not.

Sometimes I probably deserved the scolding.

Sometimes I definitely deserved it.

But Topsy didn't care about the details.

He wasn't interested in knowing what I had done.

He simply saw me standing there, heard the tone of Maa's voice, and decided that his job was to protect me.

It was almost impossible not to smile.

Here was this little dog trying to defend me from my own mother.

He had no idea that he was probably making the situation even more difficult.

But he was determined.

And somehow, that made me feel loved.

The same dog who could be unbelievably mischievous suddenly became serious when I was upset.

He didn't need anyone to teach him to protect me.

He simply did it.

Sometimes, after Maa had finished scolding me, I would sit quietly somewhere.

I wouldn't say anything.

I might not even feel like talking.

Topsy would usually come looking for me.

He would walk over and sit nearby.

For a few seconds, he would simply look at me.

Then he would come closer and gently put his head on my lap.

That was one of his ways of comforting me.

He didn't need to make a sound.

He didn't need to understand what had happened.

He just stayed.

Sometimes I would slowly run my fingers through his fur.

Sometimes I would put my head lightly against him.

And sometimes I would simply sit there while he remained beside me.

His warmth and his quiet presence made everything feel a little easier.

It was almost as though the world became quieter whenever I was beside him.

Whatever had happened before suddenly didn't seem quite as important.

Topsy had a strange way of making things feel normal again.

He never asked questions.

He never gave advice.

He never told me that everything would be okay.

He didn't need to.

He was simply there.

And somehow, that was enough.

There were many things about Topsy that I understood only later.

At the time, I thought he was just being Topsy.

If he followed me around, I thought he was being clingy.

If he came running whenever I called him, I thought it was because he wanted attention.

If he sat beside me when I was sad, I thought he simply wanted to be close.

But when I look back now, those little moments feel different.

They feel like pieces of something much bigger.

He was always paying attention.

He noticed when I was happy.

He noticed when I was upset.

He noticed when something in the house felt different.

There were moments when I wondered how a dog could understand so much.

He couldn't understand every word we said.

He couldn't ask what had happened.

He couldn't sit down and have a conversation with me.

But somehow, he seemed to understand feelings.

If someone was happy, he wanted to be around them.

If everyone was sitting together, he wanted to join them.

If there was too much noise, he made sure everyone knew that he wasn't happy about it.

And if I was sad, he came closer.

It was almost as though he had his own little way of reading the people around him.

And with me, he seemed especially protective.

Perhaps that was because we spent so much time together.

I walked him.

I fed him.

I bathed him.

I played with him.

I talked to him.

I complained to him.

I told him things even though I knew he couldn't answer.

He was simply part of my everyday life.

We had our own little relationship that didn't need to be explained to anyone else.

So when Maa scolded me and Topsy stood between us, I sometimes felt as though I had my own tiny bodyguard.

He wasn't wearing a uniform.

He didn't have a serious job.

He probably didn't even understand the word “bodyguard.”

But in those moments, he seemed completely certain that his job was to stand beside me.

Sometimes his bark would make everyone stop for a second.

And I couldn't help feeling amused.

I would look at him and almost laugh.

He looked so serious.

His little body would be standing there as if he were protecting me from the biggest danger in the world.

And the “danger” was usually just Maa being angry because I had done something silly.

But to Topsy, it didn't matter.

I was his person.

And if his person was upset, he had to do something about it.

That was Topsy's kind of love.

It wasn't dramatic.

It didn't come with grand gestures.

There were no speeches.

No promises.

No complicated explanations.

It was a head resting on my lap.

A body standing between me and a scolding.

A bark at exactly the wrong—or perhaps the right—moment.

A little face looking at me when I was quiet.

A warm body sitting beside me when I didn't feel like talking.

A dog following me from one room to another simply because he wanted to stay close.

Those little things meant more than I understood at the time.

I think that is one of the strange things about growing up.

Sometimes you don't realize how precious an ordinary moment is while you are living it.

You think there will always be another day.

Another afternoon.

Another time when you will sit beside him.

Another moment when he will come running when you call.

Another time when he will put his head on your lap.

You don't stop to memorize those moments.

You simply live them.

And Topsy gave me so many of them.

Sometimes I think he taught me something without ever trying.

He taught me that love doesn't always have to be complicated.

Sometimes love is simply noticing.

Noticing when someone is quiet.

Noticing when someone's voice changes.

Noticing when someone needs company.

And staying.

Topsy seemed to know that naturally.

He couldn't fix my problems.

He couldn't change whatever had made me sad.

He couldn't make the world suddenly become perfect.

But he could sit beside me.

He could make me smile.

He could rest his head on my lap.

He could bark when he thought someone was being too hard on me.

And somehow, that was enough.

Looking back, I realize that his protection wasn't really about being strong.

It was about being present.

He didn't have to be a big dog.

He didn't have to scare anyone away.

He just had to stand beside me.

And he did.

Again and again.

Without being asked.

Without expecting anything in return.

That was Topsy.

Naughty enough to turn the house upside down.

Funny enough to make everyone laugh.

Stubborn enough to believe he was always right.

And loving enough to become my little protector without ever being taught how.

I used to think I was the one taking care of him.

I fed him.

I walked him.

I looked after him.

But in so many small ways, he was taking care of me too.

Maybe that's what made our bond so special.

We were both taking care of each other in the only ways we knew how.

And whenever I needed him, somehow, he was there.

My little bodyguard.

My comfort.

My quiet companion.

And one of the safest places I knew.