Special Feature: If only they could talk

One of my friends/readers sent me an article about the anguish that some animals go through while serving the role of a pet. I am posting it here as a Special Feature and if any of you have similar stories feel free to send it across to me and you too will see it here as one :)

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From my window on the second floor, I witness a ritual thrice everyday, which makes me want to scream blue murder. I wonder why people keep Cocker Spaniels, Dalmatians, German Shepherds and the like, as pets in the closed confines of their apartments already crowded with furniture and crystal, which demands absolute immobility.

All these dogs have been lovingly christened with the sweetest of names from Polka, Judy, Mischief to the obviously whimsical choice of Armour, Travel, and Brandy. They look well fed. But care to look into their eyes. More agony than you can imagine wells up in the twin pools of sadness.

Never have I once seen these adorable creatures in the company of their owners, who every morning slam the doors of their imported cars very hard, perhaps to seal off the anguished whimpers of their dogs stranded for the rest of the day to the care of the most soul less dog walkers.

Their bodies stiffen visibly, as fear ridges these canines from nose tip to tail tip at the approach of these born sadists. Once the walkers take rough charge, the dogs have little choice, except to submit to the perverse ways of this abusive lot.

Armed with restless sticks whose utility they have honed to fear psychosis inspiring perfection, the walkers thrill to the sight of these dogs, flinching away in terror, or darting dread- filled, sidelong looks towards them. To the dog walkers delight most dogs have a choke chain. These they fling with savage regularity on the flanks of the dogs. Otherwise they yank them with such severity that the dog’s head snaps back, causing them to writhe as they choke helplessly.

On these walks, the dogs are held on a short leash, forcing them to move in a sullen shuffle. Sometimes they are yoked in the most terrible partnerships, such as a long legged retriever and a stubby little daschund. Their pace is mismatched enough, to make the dog walker have a schizophrenic seizure. A Bull Terrier and a Cocker Spaniel face a dilemma of another kind. The spaniel is deliberately pampered to slight the boxer, who judging from its stiff dodgy trot, ears flattened to the sides of its head, eyes distended with fear and body tensed up, clearly remembers from the past vicious kicks on it ribs.

Once they are out of the gates of the colony, the lordly walkers, basking in the reflected glory of their pedigreed charges, tie up these poor creatures to the nearest lamp post, while they gather with evil intent to laugh their heads off at the idiosyncrasies of their elitist owners.

Even as these dogs stand motionless, resigned , defeated, a slow whimper of yearning, barely audible, builds up and sneaks out. From the corners of their eyes, the only part of them which can move without arousing paranoid suspicion, they see Missy a sleek black Labrador, going every morning and evening with her master to a wooded hillock. There she bounds freely for two hours in search of doggy mischief. Guggloo a lucky German Shepherd is allowed the indulgence of endlessly nosing around boulders and bushes, and relieving himself on every available culvert or tree stump. Cuddles and Pepsi call out to their fan following of strays and generously share their doggy biscuits, before they find dust bowls and have a proper mud bath. Every muscle in their body is relaxed with the happy assurance that they are deeply cared for. In return they have a friendly ‘woof woof’ to every passer by.

In marked contrast, the dogs with the caretakers stand to rigid attention. Any change in stance invites unspeakable harshness. Out comes the stick brought down on them with merciless repetition. The walkers wisely choose an area of heavy traffic, which helpfully muffles the soul searing cries of these dumb animals.

These dogs, distinctly under stress imposed by assault over extended periods, are a far cry of their former pedigreed selves, for which they were prized. Their inherent traits have been assiduously kicked out of their system. Their lives have been so programmed, that they have no control over their destinies. Happy is the mongrel which enjoys boundless freedom. I wonder who is more cruel the dog walker or the owner? Why, you may ask am I a mute witness to this unforgivable cruelty? Because I have tried to get the message across to one or two owners, to be met with the elaborate cultivated shrug of the shoulders, that says it all!

By Radha Nair