Well, to return to the story of the 8 puppies of our building.
Despite my efforts to disapprove of the pups and disregard their presence, it was impossible not to fall in love with them. Sunny warm mornings would find the garden filled with pups tumbling over each other, sniffing the ground for nothing in particular, growling and snapping at their tails and checking the shoes of passers-by. The mother dog often played with the pups while father dog, well, he was too busy doing better things like chewing paper and tipping bags of garbage on the pathway.
The hot afternoon sun drove the pups under the bushes but rest evaded them. Young children took turns shaking the pups awake and patting them to sleep again. School bags lay strewn in the center of the park as the kids squabbled about rights of puppy care and shaking the sleeping puppy awake.
A series of complaints had started rumbling in the building – complaint 1: too many dogs, complaint 2: dogs are too noisy at night, complaint 3: dogs are messing about too much. A parallel series of complaints about people had started up among the dogs - complaint 1: too many people, complaint 2: people are too noisy all the time, complaint 3: people are messing about too much.
People stood in splintered groups and discussed ways to get rid of the dogs. The dogs stood in large congregations and growled their irritation about bipeds. We should get rid of them, only the tame ones should be allowed on the streets, said the first set. We should get rid of them, only the ones who bring food for us should be allowed on the streets, said the second set.
One fine morning the garden was empty – that’s it, empty. No puppy growls, no tumbling fights, no errant tails, no shoe checking – mummy and daddy dog sat quietly. Every once in a while the mother sniffed the ground and sat back while dad appeared quite nonchalant. I sent my almost-in-tears son to do some fact-finding and research.
Well, the complaints had reached the ears of the who’s who among the BMC and they sent the animal van (the revised version of the dog pound) to catch the grown-up animals. Daddy Dog (who earned the moniker James Bond after that), went deep into hiding. Mummy Dog was nowhere to be found. So-o-o-, what to do now with all those expert dog-catchers and their canine seeking missiles (read: sticks).
Not people who like to leave a job half-done, they picked up the eight puppies and silenced the complaining children with the assurance that they would bring the pups back. Puppies as you must know are VERY difficult to catch, one must bend down to the ground, wiggle a string and it will waddle over to investigate and get picked up. This was probably why one must be full of respect for the hard word and untiring effort of the dog squad.
Now what does the van do with a bunch of squealing pups? Well, they drop them off on entirely new ground, alien territory, so to speak, in the sincere hope that the existing canine mafia will wag its tail at the newcomer and welcome it into the group and all will be well. And that was what must have happened.
The next few days were tense some very troubled young souls in the garden. Stories of dog sightings did thr rounds but like all gossip, the stories died out in the face of cricket and hide and seek.
One school girl saw the pup Blackie and got off her school bus on the spot and quickly emptied her school bag. She walked from there, past the building security with a suspiciously moving bag and all books in hand. Once she reached the garden, she freed Blackie who leapt into the garden with visible relief. Mummy and Daddy Dog appeared from nowhere, (maybe the guy did care beneath that tough exterior) and welcomed their progeny back.
Another kid, let’s call him Adnan, saw Sweety in a horribly thin and hungry state near a temple. Sweety recognized him first and wrapped its forepaws around the kid in a silent, desperate plea to be rescued. It took a kind auto rickshaw driver, latent doggie talent to stay quiet at the entrance of the building to avoid being seen by the security and some kindness to return the pup back to its big garden home. Mummy and Daddy dog were overjoyed.
Sweety later turned out to be one of the girl dogs who turned out to be a boy. Blackie, just the opposite.
Despite my efforts to disapprove of the pups and disregard their presence, it was impossible not to fall in love with them. Sunny warm mornings would find the garden filled with pups tumbling over each other, sniffing the ground for nothing in particular, growling and snapping at their tails and checking the shoes of passers-by. The mother dog often played with the pups while father dog, well, he was too busy doing better things like chewing paper and tipping bags of garbage on the pathway.
The hot afternoon sun drove the pups under the bushes but rest evaded them. Young children took turns shaking the pups awake and patting them to sleep again. School bags lay strewn in the center of the park as the kids squabbled about rights of puppy care and shaking the sleeping puppy awake.
A series of complaints had started rumbling in the building – complaint 1: too many dogs, complaint 2: dogs are too noisy at night, complaint 3: dogs are messing about too much. A parallel series of complaints about people had started up among the dogs - complaint 1: too many people, complaint 2: people are too noisy all the time, complaint 3: people are messing about too much.
People stood in splintered groups and discussed ways to get rid of the dogs. The dogs stood in large congregations and growled their irritation about bipeds. We should get rid of them, only the tame ones should be allowed on the streets, said the first set. We should get rid of them, only the ones who bring food for us should be allowed on the streets, said the second set.
One fine morning the garden was empty – that’s it, empty. No puppy growls, no tumbling fights, no errant tails, no shoe checking – mummy and daddy dog sat quietly. Every once in a while the mother sniffed the ground and sat back while dad appeared quite nonchalant. I sent my almost-in-tears son to do some fact-finding and research.
Well, the complaints had reached the ears of the who’s who among the BMC and they sent the animal van (the revised version of the dog pound) to catch the grown-up animals. Daddy Dog (who earned the moniker James Bond after that), went deep into hiding. Mummy Dog was nowhere to be found. So-o-o-, what to do now with all those expert dog-catchers and their canine seeking missiles (read: sticks).
Not people who like to leave a job half-done, they picked up the eight puppies and silenced the complaining children with the assurance that they would bring the pups back. Puppies as you must know are VERY difficult to catch, one must bend down to the ground, wiggle a string and it will waddle over to investigate and get picked up. This was probably why one must be full of respect for the hard word and untiring effort of the dog squad.
Now what does the van do with a bunch of squealing pups? Well, they drop them off on entirely new ground, alien territory, so to speak, in the sincere hope that the existing canine mafia will wag its tail at the newcomer and welcome it into the group and all will be well. And that was what must have happened.
The next few days were tense some very troubled young souls in the garden. Stories of dog sightings did thr rounds but like all gossip, the stories died out in the face of cricket and hide and seek.
One school girl saw the pup Blackie and got off her school bus on the spot and quickly emptied her school bag. She walked from there, past the building security with a suspiciously moving bag and all books in hand. Once she reached the garden, she freed Blackie who leapt into the garden with visible relief. Mummy and Daddy Dog appeared from nowhere, (maybe the guy did care beneath that tough exterior) and welcomed their progeny back.
Another kid, let’s call him Adnan, saw Sweety in a horribly thin and hungry state near a temple. Sweety recognized him first and wrapped its forepaws around the kid in a silent, desperate plea to be rescued. It took a kind auto rickshaw driver, latent doggie talent to stay quiet at the entrance of the building to avoid being seen by the security and some kindness to return the pup back to its big garden home. Mummy and Daddy dog were overjoyed.
Sweety later turned out to be one of the girl dogs who turned out to be a boy. Blackie, just the opposite.
