A nagging pet peeve

DESPITE my great love and liking for fictional canine characters like William Shakespeare’s Rover in The Winter’s Tale or Tintin’s loyal friend Snowy, I have a general dislike for real-life dogs. My dislike has not been slackened even by heart-warming tales like that of Lincoln’s celebrated pooch Fido.

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My dislike resurfaced a couple of days ago when my daughter in Delhi seemed to be bent upon acquiring a pup as a pet for her seven-year-old son. ‘Don’t ever succumb to his pleadings, otherwise life would become really tough for you,’ I warned, concerned at her already hectic schedule.

‘But since all his playmates in our locality have it, we’ve a tough time getting him back from their homes. You’ve to see him play happily to believe it, and with no fear like the one you had,’ she kept on.

I was scared because I had seen my sister’s college friend die of hydrophobia after being bitten by a dog in her locality. It was said the dog was rabid. The whole town was in mourning over the sad and untimely loss of a young promising life.

The students vehemently protested against the local administration’s negligence in tackling the menace of stray dogs. And often, I’d heard about the injections being given across the stomach after a dog bite to prevent rabies.

‘Am I not rightly worried?’ I confronted her. ‘Don’t you remember our painful battles to prevent our residential sector’s dog lovers from making their pets relieve themselves in front of everyone’s house, except their own. Even now, I’ve to carefully observe their timings and strategically place myself in front of our house to check the nuisance.’

I paused to continue: ‘As if all this was not enough of a headache, lately another strong group of “Stray Dog Saviours” has emerged. They are crazy about feeding and protecting them. They won’t even let you point a stick at them. Because of this canine menace, I’m scared to walk even 200 yards to the market. Last year only, and how can you forget, that acquaintance of ours was bitten in the calf and had to take painful shots in his tummy. These free-ranging packs of canines rule the lanes in our sector. But when a gang of criminals struck in a house, none of these mutts even stirred. So much for their touted loyalty, faithfulness and courage! Earlier, they would start their barking bouts at any time for no reason, but of late, they have turned to howling, evoking a brooding sense of unpredictable ill omen or something sinister in many residents. Of course, the long mournful cries are so irritating.’ All this I elaborated in a breathless outburst.

However, my daughter was so emotionally manipulated by her son that she would have none of it. ‘Okay! Do whatever you like,’ I shrugged philosophically, resigned to her succumbing to canine charm.