Rosy is a dog which I have been keeping for the past four years. It was by sheer accident that Rosy came into my hands. Our neighbour Mr. Jones was a dog lover. He has a good kennel in his house where he reared different types of dogs. Suddenly, he got tranfered from the town and he wanted to dispose some of the dogs, he had. He was talking to my father. Then I told my father that we could have one of the puppies; though reluctant, my father agreed. That was how Rosy came into my possession.
Why, it was named Rosy, I cannot say. It is an Alsatian. It is of medium height, grey in color with dark spots near her belly, bushy and glistening eyes. It grew into a beautiful and magnificent dog much to the envy of others.
Rosy can be seen about our house when she is playing or when she is not sleeping. She takes pleasure in sniffing about the comers when she has nothing particular to do. She is as docile as a deer in our presence. When we are not at home she will be at her mettle and no one can easily come near our gate or house. Though she does not bite, she will bounce on the person baring her teeth so much so that she can paralyse any intruder. She recognizes the postman as a friend and so does not do him any harm.
I give her some biscuits and milk in the morning, rice and curry in the afternoon. Usually she is not given any food in the night. When we are at our table, Rosy keeps company with me but she shows no eagerness to touch even a crumb unless offered. So my father likes it. Rosy cries in peculiar way. It is between barking and howling. Sometimes she raises a cry like moaning. That means she wants to go out for toilet.
Whenever I go out in the evening, she accompanies me. My friends are afraid of her because she does not like silly mischievous boys. She shows her displeasure by barking and that is enough to unnerve the boys. My father says, Rosy would soon become a mother. Then I will have a few nice puppies.