Adopt a humane path to manage stray dogs

IN primary school, I learnt cursive writing by carefully running my pencil over a dotted line which read, "A dog is man's best friend." Native American mythology talks of a time when humans became so cruel to animals that God decided to separate their worlds; and as the Almighty was slicing the earth into two, the dog jumped over the gaping split to the side of the humans.

The dog has been in our midst, in our lanes, streets and doorsteps since time immemorial. It must be eliminated gently. Guru Tegh Bahadur writes, "Says Nanak, attend upon the Lord like the steadfast dog who never abandons his master's house" (slok mohalla nauvan, 45).

The dog's unconditional love for its humans remains exemplary, its shraddha towards its human being is nothing short of bhakti. And the human, touched by a dog's love, can neither forget nor fail to reciprocate its purity with the same wholeheartedness.

People unfriendly to dogs find it hard to understand the "mad" love that dog lovers feel for their babies. It is because the "look" of open love in their voiceless, trusting eyes, once seen, can never leave us.

Today, dog haters and dog lovers are standing poles apart. But on one point, we would both agree: that both want dogs eventually off the streets; the former because they want their streets free of stray dogs and the latter because they can no longer see their bachchas suffering on the streets.

It is ironic that the Supreme Court has come up with two successive adverse verdicts against street dogs at a time when caregiving for animals has become commonplace amongst all strata. New Delhi has not reported even one rabies-related death over the past three years; and this is thanks, to a very large degree, to the caregivers who work relentlessly to care for their strays.

I live in the Capital, in Green Park, where an active group of dog lovers takes care of each and every — and when I say "each and every", I mean each and every — dog in the locality. It effectively divides the work to feed, care, vaccinate and sterilise all their street dogs, over 80 in number. Yes, all the street dogs in Green Park and adjoining areas are sterilised; the last of the pups that were born in the area between 2013 and 2017 were adopted and we have had no litter since then. When they are injured or sick, they are sent to medical facility for treatment and recovery. This significantly reduces the risk of dog bites, as dogs usually bite out of pain or fear rather than anything else. If a new dog strays into the area, it is immediately noticed, fed and, in time, vaccinated and sterilised.

Such groups abound all over the city not only in posh colonies but also in poorer bastis where dog feeders work in cooperation with dog lovers from the area.

In 2010, this group had managed to sterilise a significant number of dogs in our area, and I was hopeful that no strays would be left in our streets in a few years. But then, we woke up one morning to find many unfamiliar dogs scurrying in our lanes.

The authorities had overnight picked up dogs from around the Commonwealth Games Village and displaced them all over the city. Overnight, the painstaking sterilisation project collapsed. However, despite the setback, the project persisted and the dog population in our area continued to reduce. While there were seven dogs in my lane around five years ago, we have none today. Yes, there is not a single stray in my street today; and so is the case in many adjoining streets. They have all passed on without reproducing.

There is also a misconception that dog care is an elite preoccupation. The woman who does our cleaning has adopted two strays that her family dotes over; the safai karamchari of our lane proudly boasts of the stray she has adopted; the phoolwala in the market does not brook any hostility towards his "Munna"; and the fruitwala snuggles with his Kalu at night as they both keep watch over their shop.

Humanely reducing the dog population of our cities is not a pipe dream; it is a tried and tested reality. The method is very simple: allow the caregivers to feed the dog; that way, they befriend it and earn its trust. It does not take long for a dog to know its human protectors.

Once the bond is forged, the animal can be easily picked up when in need of treatment, vaccination and sterilisation. And once sterilised, it is only a matter of time that there will be no dog left in the lane, like mine and many others in South Delhi that have been fine-combed by the committed dog caregivers.

Many cities have tried culling dogs before, but it has never proved effective. The courts and the government would be well advised to recognise that the solution to this "problem" begins with kindness. All it needs to do is join hands with the already well-organised groups of dog lovers of their city, whose heart lies in the care and safety of their dogs, and the humanity of us humans, what more could a humane city wish for?

Today, the polarised responses of both groups are rooted in fear. Those who are against dogs see them as a menace and fear that the menace will only grow out of control if not drastically brought under check. Meanwhile, dog lovers fear the fate of their babies after they are carried off to "shelters".

We know well that no government is equipped to build an infrastructure within the stipulated eight weeks to house tens of thousands of dogs. Where will these dogs go, what will become of them? And the darkest fear that looms in our hearts is that of the dog-meat market in neighbouring China.

Our voiceless dogs are in dire need of help today. Please let us stand up for them and let them be gradually phased out from our streets with love, care and dignity that they deserve. After all, we are human, and we must not forget that!