And they call it puppy love

You would think it would be as easy as filling out an online application on  a matrimony site. I mean, how tough could it be—I was not particular about complexion, pedigree, religion, name, family background, previous sexual escapades or a lack of them, or even age.

But just to be sure, I called up a few friends, tossed the idea about—it had been seven years you know—could you blame me for needing some ego-brushing, dusting, polishing and shining to put myself back on the market after all this while? “Go for it,” said one, “As long as you are ready for it,” said another, “Do you know what you are doing,” (asking as a friend who cares for you) asked another. I went in to work and casually tossed the idea to those passing my strategically placed corner cubicle— do you think I'm ready to be put on the market? At my age?

It would be difficult, even awkward at first. I had grown used to living on my own —sharing my home, my space with another being was going to be a whole new adjustment game. But it would be good for me, good for my son, we’d be a family again.

I sat my son down. It would just be him and me, in it together. He listened as sagely as a five-year-old could and then went off to watch TV. I locked myself in, shut myself out from all the cacophony of opinions, the do’s the don’ts, the warnings, and thought about it. Then, when clarity dawned, I picked up the phone and made the call. I stammered through it, and set the fateful date.

That morning saw my entire wardrobe on the floor—didn’t want to look desperate, needy, lonely. Go for cool, capable, smart. I brushed my hair from pony tail to casual clip, jettisoned the jeans for the salwar kameez, to arrive at casual chic.

At the meeting place, the heavy iron gate swung open to the appraising eye of a smiling but stern Ms Daisy. She led me to Amigo, the happy, bounding Alsatian mix, who had caught my eye the first time. After a bit of sniffing, the little puppy dog bounded away. I had been rejected! This was too traumatic. I then saw little Laika, the cocker spaniel, who walked around me with an approving air. There was a possibility of a match after all. Come back after two weeks, and we will see how it goes, Ms Daisy said. Now, I’m more nervous than ever.