Every dog will have its day

It was an unusual spectacle for me. About a dozen street dogs, sitting on their hind legs in an open space in the colony, patiently waited for an old lady who came to them every day at a fixed time on a mission.

As on any other day when they saw her coming out of her house carrying a container, there was commotion and anticipation. But none budged from its position.

The lady looked at her guests and then called out for Kalu. With exemplary obedience, a black dog got up and walked up to her betraying no haste. She placed before Kalu a few pieces of left-over meat pieces and commanded, "Go back". Kalu picked them up and moved back. No other dog looked at it. "Now, Bhoora, you come." A brown coated dog walked up to her, collected its share and returned. Then came Moti, Heera and all others as and when they were called. It was a strange sight. Perfect discipline!

There was no jumping the queue, no jostling, not even the usual grabbing and getting away. Every dog knew that if it broke the rules, Mataji, as the good old lady was known in the area, would not only admonish it but deny it of its share for a few days. A retired teacher, Mataji, had been a strict disciplinarian not only at school but at home also. But she has a soft heart. Her straying into the world of street dogs was not without reason.

Years ago, following a common practice, Mataji had also come out of her house to throw away some left-over food to be consumed by stray dogs. At that time, only a fully grown up dog and a little puppy were there. As the little one tried to grab some, the older one shooed it away with a ferocious growl. The pup moved back and watched helplessly, the senior one lapping up all of it.

The sight moved the kind-hearted lady. She was pained to notice that the little hungry soul remained hungry. It had been deprived of its legitimate share. The adage ‘might is right' was unfolding in front of her eyes. How would the little one survive? She asked herself as also her neighbours, betraying her deep concern for them.

Mataji decided to do something for the weakling. But it would be unfair if she excluded the rest of the herd. So, she decided to feed all the dogs inhabiting the locality. That was a significant turning point in her life. I was told that from the very next day Mataji started going from house to house in the area collecting left-overs in a container.

The severe criticism she had faced earlier for raising a colony within a colony for dogs turned into appreciation. Later, age-related health problems threatened to impede her noble mission. Happily, however, the mantle has been picked up by her admirers.

By a sheer coincidence, during a short stay in a prominent south Indian city, my interest in human interest stories, took me to a lady who was feeding cats the same way but with a significant difference. Being a staunch vegetarian herself, she was trying to convert the cats into herbivores. And she had succeeded to some extent. But sometimes natural animal instincts show up.

Once, while she was feeding vegetarian food to the cats, one of them quietly sneaked out of the group. Next moment she had grabbed a baby sparrow that was learning to fly. The act enraged its mentor who screamed at the cat. The cat froze. The chick lay dead near it.

The cat avoided eye contact with the lady, and lowered its head and eyes. "Say, sorry and come here," commanded the lady. The culprit crawled up to her, accepted the vegetarian stuff given to it and moved back.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.