Draping pets, mainly dogs and cats, with woollies to protect them from biting cold is a common practice in cold countries. It is not so in tropical regions like India where the climate does not warrant it.
Clothing these pets in India becomes necessary only when the temperature dips to 15 or 16 degree Celsius — a phenomenon occurring during the winters mainly in northern, north-western and parts of central India. Yet, many dog-lovers do not bother about their pet’s agony. They leave it to the care of nature, which has given them a cushy, hairy coat on their body as the shield. However, the sensitive type would not leave their dog unprotected.
Clearly, it is the amount of the owner’s love for the pet that determines whether or not the mute faithful deserves a woollen cover on its body. Sometimes, a person gives it to his dog because his neighbour has done it.
In some homes, women and their children like to dress up their ‘doggy’ like themselves. Wearing a multi-coloured bodywear and a gorgeous cap, they evoke a smile at the first look. Irrespective of the breed, the doggy becomes a plaything and a source of amusement in the family. Needless to say that such pets get special food and a special place to sleep.
This is about the dogs that fall in the privileged class — the ‘haves’. But in India, there is an enormous population of what is called street or stray dogs because they have no masters, no place to stay and no food to eat. They are nobody’s concern. They have to dig out food on their own at some refuse dump or wait at the doorstep of some noble housewife to survive. When the plummeting mercury and cold winds drive people back home, the ‘underdogs’ (in the true sense of the term) look for some corner or any other place where they could herd and curl themselves up and spend those agonising nights. This had been a common sight in many cities in north India where unprecedented cold took its toll recently.
A few days back, I was witness to the valiant effort of a roadside cobbler and a street dog to brave an unusual onslaught of daytime cold. The meteorology department had said never before had the city experienced such a cold weather on that particular date of the month. Had I read the forecast I would not have ventured to move out of my house. It was about 4pm. The sky was heavily overcast, causing darkness at that hour. Many vehicles had switched on their headlights. I was sitting inside a shop when I noticed some commotion on the road. A cobbler, who had been carrying on his small job sitting on a stone slab covering a big roadside drain, for several years, was trying to help out a stray dog.
One of the hind legs of the white and brown dog had got entangled inside the sleeve of a woollen cardigan it was wearing. The dog was limping, a sight that the cobbler could not bear. The twosome had been coexisting in the area for quite a few years and had become good ‘friends’. The owner of the shop where I was sitting told me that there were some half a dozen stray dogs roaming in the area, all of whom were “good friends” of cobbler Hiralal. But he was closest to that particular dog which he had named ‘Moti’.
Every morning, the moment Hiralal came from home on his daily errand, Moti would come hopping to him. Wagging its tail, it would try to play with him and bark — his way of expressing his joy on meeting his ‘friend and mentor’. Even as he spread his wares and got ready for his job, Hiralal would reciprocate by lifting, hugging and kissing Moti to the amusement of onlookers.
Soon after, both would get busy with their routine — Moti going out in search of food to satiate its hunger and Hiralal getting down to business to earn his bread to satiate his hunger.
Undoubtedly, Hiralal was very poor, but he had a big heart. Rich shopkeepers enviously watched him religiously giving him one ‘roti’ out of his lunch every day. Moti waited for his benefactor and arrived there just when the cobbler opened his lunch ‘dabba’ (lunchbox) — showing a perfect sense of timing.
A day earlier, the cobbler had noticed the dog shivering in the daytime cold. He could not bear the sight. He took off his tattered woollen cardigan and draped the dog in it. Moti appeared happy and comfortable, but now Hiralal shivered. Nevertheless, the kind-hearted cobbler had the satisfaction of having done a good deed. The dog’s joy was short-lived, though. It got into trouble when one of its hind legs got entangled in the cardigan’s sleeve and it started limping.
Some people wanted to help out the dog, but did not dare to go near it for fear of getting bitten. Moti waited the whole night and came out of it only when the cobbler arrived the next morning.
The grateful canine walked into the cobbler’s lap to express its gratitude and the man caressed Moti’s head to reciprocate his love for it.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
