Life is fun being a street dog, little to
worry for but a lot to complain about. Unlike
the dogs which live on the cozier side of a wall, we’re all weather dogs. We
know how to miss the speeding vehicle while chasing a female dog or running
from a male one; we can eat leftover food and survive; we never need to be
taken for a walk. The saying `barking dogs seldom bite’ doesn’t apply to us, sir,
be warned, we can bark without a break and bite like a rake. On the issue of
crossing roads, human beings seem to have copied our technology.
We
fail to understand why sex maniacs are referred to as a dog? Accepted, we mate
in the open but it’s not as if we have sex for fun, money, lust, revenge and
power. We mate only to reproduce. Have you ever heard of a male dog, waging a
war for the sake of a female dog, whereas human history is full of such instances?
Don’t bark like a dog is the common
refrain amongst human beings. We bark with a purpose and usually to protect
human interests. I never know of a senior dog barking at a junior dog just because
he or she could not finish his or her share of bone. Let alone barking, the
senior dog would gladly lessen the junior’s difficulties.
Can dogs predict death? No, as a matter of
fact we can’t see our death coming, how can we see yours? Our howling is just
to seek company. This does not mean we don’t know anything. We know which
mother-in-law is putting extra salt into the sambar her daughter-in-law has
prepared; which daughter-in-law is buying additional furniture or establishing
an office-at-home to push her in-laws to an old age home; which husband is
talking sweet nothings to the cutie in his office; which young girl, gets how
much mobile recharge, from which young boy; which citizen is stealing power,
and water; which young boy’s straight drive broke whose window, we know
everything. Nobody can understand how
difficult it is to wag our tails to such diabolical individuals? We have to,
for the sake of our stomach. Don’t give a man a fish, teach him to catch one
say the human beings. Forget the men, teach us to how to catch a fish and cook
it. Sir, we assure that a street dog wagging its tail to anybody will be a rare
sight, rarer than a rainbow. Dog is a man’s best friend but not vice-versa.
Every
dog has its day, they say. I don’t know what it means, but let me assure that
our days and nights are better than what most human beings have. We’ve to
pretend chasing a rat away from under the car and the man of the house becomes
grateful to us. We’ve to feign sickness when really bad leftover food is served,
and something delicious is bought from the bakery. If spice is the variety of
life, a street dog can experience it for a life time, but what about a married
human being?
I
want to end for the time being by saying to Mr George Orwell that Animal Farm
would have been a different story, if Snowball had once in a while come to us,
patted on our backs and given us a piece or two of biscuits.
