Foxy had been around the village with different owners before I got her. My previous driver, Amar, who eventually fell off a hill in a drunken stupor and later died, got her from his village. He cut off part of her tail and hurled it away from his quarters because he had heard that if you do that, dogs will get potty trained and not piss in the house. He couldn’t take care of her and gave her away to someone in our village. I first saw her in a neighbor’s apple orchard while on a hike and I asked him  if she was his dog, and he said, ‘yes, and I’m offering her as a bride to your dog, Tiger.’ I thought that was funny but didn’t think of it much. But when I got home I told the staff, Tiger has got an offer of marriage! (That’s how most people here get married in India — arranged offers). An hour after we returned home, Foxy squeezed through the fence and Tiger loved her immediately, and they played and played and had a great time. We kept her, and I have have had her ever since — seven years now.

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