Anonymous Autonomous

That’s the Indian Street Dog & Co. for you.

Anonymous. Nameless, but they will respond to or adapt to any name you give them.

If they feel like it.

Autonomous. Will do as they please. Wherever and whenever they please.

The dog who loves just being.

Making someone else’s house her own.

If you give them food, they’ll give you their heart; they’ll frequent your home (gate, rather; they’re pariah after all) or say hello to you when you pass them by.

The one with a dangerous smile. Or eyes. Or look. Or your imagination.

There are places that these dogs will decide to adopt and therefore come to be referred to as “office dog”, “church dog”, “our road dog”, “temple dog”, “park dog” and in the case of intolerant humans, “mad dog”.

This “church dog” followed my Dad into the Church. When he realized the packet of flowers (that Dad was carrying) was of no interest to his tummy and himself, he promptly went to the pews at the back and fell asleep.

If you dare tread their territory at night, especially on wheels, they’ll snarl, growl and follow you like you’re their only meal in four days and howl so loudly while running after you, you’ll think they’ve been possessed by banshees.

Or they’ll plain ignore you.

Basking in the Sun. And ignoring me.

Occasionally, for no particular reason, they may bite you. And then you’ll swear to never exchange pleasantries (or eye contact) with any stray. N E V E R. If the ensuing injections of the rabies vaccine have tormented you more than the dog bite itself, you may even lose faith in caninekind (or unkind, you’ll say). Forever.

Until then, you’ll watch as the dogs and their friends rule the streets. It’s their kingdom, their autonomy (in their mind at least). They’ll continue to find their Home in any place they can sleep peacefully in.

Look at that smile! I have barely seen this “park dog” awake. He has been sleeping – beneath park benches – at least four out of five times that i might’ve seen him.

They’ll bask in sunshine, give you an occasional glance (smile at you, if you’re lucky) and go back to dreaming of their next meal. A picture of pure bliss.

And as you look at the picture of perfection,  you’ll realize why you’ve been told to let the proverbial sleeping dogs lie.

 

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