Doggone days here

Every dog has his day. A sentiment that the strays in Goa have currently taken too literally.

Now I know many do-good dog lovers are not going to take to this verbal whiplash kindly. But let me flog a few backsides. Beginning with the doggone agencies that support, preach, castigate, procrastinate, vaccinate and then leave the poor fellows back on the streets. The ideology? All living things have a right to life (Oh, after taking away the doggie’s right to breed!) And since this is a noble cause and comes free, so say thank you ingrate, you may as well shut up and let them get their funds to continue. But now I need a survival strategy, with all the strays taking siege of my neighbourhood, and the merry rugby they play over pieces of garbage from overflowing bins. Couple that with teeth snarling exercises to keep facial muscles taut, while you watch dreadfully as canines snap repeatedly, like Dracula doing a dental strip-tease. This is not my idea of entertainment. I would rather watch Robbie Williams, who looks equally dreadful anyway. Being a dog sucks, I guess.

A gentleman walked up to me, during a busy beauty shoot last week, to tell me that he was living a dog’s life in Calangute, surrounded by strays doing a ghastly version of the `Good, Bad and the Ugly’ outside his fortress like compound. Several victims had already succumbed to the four-legged cowboys, he laments, who descend in organised packs for a free-for-all. An animal lover himself, he is appalled at the total lack of concern from the very agency which dutifully pick up strays, castrates them (it’s a rude word I know) and leaves them back on the roads. Since he was getting nowhere with his grievance, he approached one of such an agency and uttered the blasphemous word `shoot.’ They have since been shooting him with dirty stares, he complains. What happens to the strays after the `rescue-operate’ mission, is not the agency’s concern, he was told. They were only doing their job of keeping the doggone population in check. The concerned complainant has been polishing his shotgun since then.

I don’t know if dogs smell a potential opponent, but I had a face-to-face of sorts with what I presumed was a stray this morning (though I wouldn’t put him in the Robbie Williams category, for his sheer display of character). I froze. He froze too. I stared. He straightened his neck, puffed his chest and stared back. I clutched my heavy handbag tighter and stepped forward. Mr Doggone stood his ground, without wavering eye contact. By now I was a little unsure. What if he was the bite-in-the-back-sneaky type? Now I could tell you many that belong in this classification. And not all of them are dogs! I decided since it was my right of path, and he, the trespasser, I would walk, rather than run. He looked like he was not interested in brunch anyway. More stares were exchanged, I walked on (though it’s not always this peaceful, I’m told). Last seen, after a fugitive glance to check my backside, the dog had hurriedly crouched underneath a parked jeep. I hailed a pilot with a winning smile.

However, getting bitten by a pack of them is not funny. Especially if they decide to emulate a Bollywood chase with you on a two-wheeler. These days, even doctors have become choosy on who they want to treat. Fat chance if you’re a rabies probable.

Given this scenario, how not to end up being a statistic? Because no agency-rescued stray let loose back on the street comes with a what-to-do-if-I-bite-you guidebook around his/her neck. The agencies are not interested if their pet causes cause distress to other two-legged creatures, as long as their funds keep flowing and they have `numbers’ to show. After all, what good is a human race if they can’t show compassion towards the non-thinking types. Right? Wrong. I think somebody’s got to put a lease on all these dog-angels that preach compassion, and then turn a blind eye to the rampage these strays inflict upon innocent citizens. Most of them being children. The government also has to make these doggone-angels existing in such sensitive areas accountable to the public – since they are in the business of rescue, while I would suggest their dogs be exported into the kitchens of China (hey, a revenue generating idea, no?) – when incidences of dog bites increase in their respective vicinities. Perhaps, they could extend their services and set up units to check rabies in their respective neighbourhoods, by educating the public about the disease, and then making vaccines available for bite victims. But hey, who has the time for putting ideas into practice, caught as each dog agency is, into feverish politicking activity against each other. So do we all get together and bark our discontentment, since the government too has passed on the buck to these agencies – see what happens when one runs parallel services?

I say citizens group into vigilant teams, round up all the strays in our neighourbood and tie them outside the gates of these do-gooders who can then think up a way to keep them fed and happy. If a few teeth get in the way, so much the better. After all, the only way to learn is through experience. A full throated woof to that.

Ethel Da Costa
October  2, 2002

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