Doggone it

In a society where children/elders/the disabled are routinely neglected and abused, it may seem pointless, perhaps facetious to some, to talk about how we treat dogs - but I’m going to, because for me any kind of abuse and neglect is on a continuum, not on a hierarchy. And because from where I sit, it looks to me that Pune is fast heading for one more dubious-distinction, the dog-abuse capital of the country. We have all the ingredients for it. Large houses, gardens, children whose every wish and whim needs to be provided, parents who seriously believe that a puppy is only a slightly more demanding gift than a stuffed toy.
For every dog lover in our cities, there are at least two more who are what can at best be called ‘dog fanciers’. The idea of keeping a dog catches their fancy – perhaps because the Rs 10,000-20,000 tag makes them feel like they’re getting themselves some prestigious acquisition; or they have a mental picture of themselves striding down the road with a beautifully trained creature at heel; or they see all those ads where a dog completes the picture to that beautifully balanced family of four plus the petrol-guzzling SUV. I don’t know. And I wish I could say I don’t care. But unfortunately, I do.
And I am not even getting into the stray dog problem, here. I’m talking here about the ‘high-class’ pedigreed dogs that seem to have a shelf life of about 3-6 months in many homes. The scenarios go something like this, with a few variations:
Daddy, I want a dog (whine set up by child for about 3 months). For your birthday, beta (Daddy’s absentminded assurance.) Oh god, that means one more person to feed and clean up after (Mummy’s growl.) Several vague discussions (or possibly none) later, daddy /uncle/ grandfather/aunty shows up with a ‘surprise’ gift - 6 week old pedigreed wonder, all fur and melting eyes and manageably tiny. (An aside here for the surprise giver: a puppy coming into a household, means a 15-year long relationship. So what were you thinking, getting it for them without making sure the family is really geared for it? Next time you have this impulse, gift a stuffed toy, or a cream cake with an adorable puppy made of sugar on top, ok?). To continue the ‘dog fancier family’ scenario:
Month 1. The household goes wild with joy, much stuff is bought for the new acquisition. The puppy often suffers from too much handling, shrieking kids, rides in the car, and so on. He throw up here and there, he unloads his digestive track hither and yon. No one thought of that one, and now it’s a pain, and there’s some vague notion that you should clobber the little blighter’s rump with a rolled paper whenever he messes up. Don’t know if these families did the same thing with their kids, but somehow this school of toilet training doesn’t work (and possibly hasn’t worked with their kids, who knows).
Month 2. Stationery, toys, books, rugs, shoes, clothes etc begin to get chewed up, and it’s not that cute or entertaining a diversion to have this creature around anymore. Family members begin to shove tasks on each other, or get hold of reluctant domestic help to be in charge of the dog now. The holidays are coming up, and no one’s thought of what they’re going to do with the blighter. Maybe it comes as a surprise to many that you can’t just unplug the dog while you’re away on vacation, who knows.
Month 3. The blighter’s growing huge, boisterous, and beginning to whine when the family melts away to work, study, party. Because damned fools that these dogs are, they get attached to this family – they have no choice really.
Month 4. Neighbours begin to complain at the whining and howling. The dog is now tied, perhaps outside in the compound (“so he’s not locked up inside”). Here he whimpers, barks, pulls on his chain, and then learns to sit resignedly, waiting out his sentence of ‘belonging’ to this family.
Month 5. There are possibly some veterinary issues that emerge from no exercise, no grooming, and no affection. This is when the dog is openly identified as a pain ‘something needs to be done’. Quite possibly, the family is about to be transferred to some new city/country, and dog-gone it, they’re not going to take this four-legged millstone with them.
Month 6. Those with a little conscience take a stab at finding a new home for the dog, and sometimes do, and that’s that. They tell themselves or their kids that ‘he/she’s much happier on that farm’. Or then the more ingenious and efficient of the lot simply stuff the pest in the SUV, and drive down to Mulshi or some such, let it out, and drive away. Easy.
Think about what their kids are learning. That when a living being stops being entertaining, and demands your time and energy, you simply give it away. Some years from now, Daddy and Mummy could well be enticed into a car and left at Mulshi Lake, then?