The Secret Samaritan of the Dogs
The other day, as I was rounding the lake on kora, I spotted a dog in the street, and did a double-take. Now, a dog in the streets of Rewalsar is not news. There are many of them. Most Indians do not keep dogs as pets. As in Mexico, dogs are outdoor animals who may get the occasional treat from a friendly butcher or dhaba-wallah, but other than that they’re pretty much on their own. There are few spaying/neutering programs here, so the dogs produce litter after litter, until it seems the streets are filled with ungainly puppies learning to walk and play. In parts of India, like Goa, the dogs may end up running in large and sometimes dangerous packs, claiming beaches or parks as their territory. The nights are filled with barking as the dogs settle territorial and dominance disputes.
When the government determines the dogs have gotten too numerous, they put out poison.
Ironically, when the same thing happens with monkey troops, the monkeys are not poisoned. Why? Well, monkeys are vegetarians. Anything that will poison a monkey could poison a cow, since both animals do their share of feeding off the streets. So monkeys are humanely trapped and relocated.
But, back to the dogs. Late last year I watched the various litters of puppies with some trepidation. I have no idea what magic number the government uses to figure out when to lay out the strychnine. 30 dogs? 20? 10? A number of dogs died prematurely from cold, starvation, or car traffic, causing me to wonder what kind of karma could lead to living such a short life in a major pilgrimage point. There are still quite a few survivors, who are
now big strapping animals running in packs. A few of these dogs do belong to people, their badge of ownership being a simple bindi mark on the forehead drawn in hair dye, or a red ribbon around the neck. I’ve seen a couple of other dogs on leashes.
The surprising thing about the dog I saw was this: its belly was definitely shaved, the nipples sticking out in rows against bare skin. And, in the center of the shaved patch, was a neat surgical bandage over a long incision. Someone, somewhere, had taken the dog in to be spayed.
I didn’t think anything of it until this afternoon, when, as I walked by the lake side, I spotted another dog napping in the sun. Belly shaved. Neatly limned scar between the lines of nipples.
Somebody, somewhere, has been taking the dogs in to be fixed! I said a few extra manis for the unknown samaritan, who must have gone to the trouble of catching the dogs in the first place, taking them to the vet, and paying for the operations out of his or her own pocket. Unless I miss my guess, they’ve also been careful to catch the female dogs specifically, since neutering just a few of the male dogs won’t necessarily keep the population down. Fewer females producing puppies will mean fewer visits from government officials bearing poison, fewer dogs dying in agony in the streets, and (perhaps) fewer puppies dying simply because the litters were too big to begin with.
And who’s to say how somebody, somewhere, is altering their karma by saving a pack of street dogs from suffering? It’s occurring to me, as I write this, that maybe all of these short animal lives are doing their part to affect human karma, as well. Food for thought…
Again, a mitzvah! What a dear story, Nyondo. A thousand blessings on the dogs’ samaritan. Oh, and I like your saying “The global village is right next door.” Nothing’s made that more true than the internet - neighbor.
) I’ll add some requests for blessings on the samaritan (and on the dogs and, as always, yourself) of my flavor. Thank you for sharing that tale.
Comment by Dale-Harriet in WI | May 19, 2007
If you find out who it is, let me know. I do know that there’s a program in Shimla, at least, but I would love to find out who did it and maybe try to meet them when I make it over there.
Comment by Mel | May 20, 2007