Dogs are dogs
I do not know why people have come to associate the word bitch with abuse and dogs with, well dogs! For all that I can associate these animals is with love, genuineness, protection and joy. But then I am an animal lover and certainly am biased.
Some people are so passionate about their animals that they can tell which one is theirs just by the sound of it. Put two similar looking black dogs in front of them and a second would be too long a time to tell you which ones theirs. So itÔÇÖs not just the dogs that are faithful but we, as humans, are equally faithful to them. And oh my God, we might fail to keep up but they, unlike cats, will almost always pay attention. Of course, they have a mind of their own which will occasionally refuse to listen to you, but they will not be happy unless they come back, beg for forgiveness and make up for their misbehaviour by letting you be the king/queen of their world.
I have never had the good luck of keeping a pet dog but being a total lover, I have managed to keep few street dogs close and around. Street dogs belong to nobody but to the charcoal roads, garbage bins, the shade of a tree and the street lights that burn at night. They have no masters and certainly cannot be chained. They know when to run away and to object to what. They rule the streets and have learned to live there. They have a free will and an uncanny ability to catch vibes. So they might be suspicious of the fruit cake which the suited guy in an expensive SUV has to offer, but happily wag their tails to a rack picker who is just equally interest in the dustbin as they are!
However, I do sometimes keep questioning myself if the love of these dogs for me is just for the food I give them. I mean they have practically lived the theory of ÔÇÿthe survival of the fittestÔÇÖ and they know that having good public relations can earn them bread. So I am bound to doubt their intentions when they join me on a stroll, barking at every stranger that passes me by.
I have a particularly aggressive brown pariah bitch named ÔÇÿKidÔÇÖ that gets really protective when I go for evening walks. I have seen this one from day one. After its mother mysteriously disappeared and we saved it, as a pup, from a rainy winter night, I have a special soft corner for it and feel that it does too, as if it remembers that night. I do not know if dogs are capable of such memories but Kid has seen 8 winters since.
I am an occasional morning walker too and was delighted on spotting Kid and her gang one morning in a nearby park, making useless attempts at catching a bird or a squirrel. On finding me there, kid broke from the gang and followed me until I finished my rounds. Throughout the walk I kept wondering about the motivational factor that could be behind following me. Was it for love or food? For some reason I attributed it to food. After all itÔÇÖs a dog, a street dog, I thought. When I was done walking I got out of the gate and walked towards my home, all the while followed by Kid. Now while I was contemplating whether to walk in and get it some bread and at the same time thinking if doing so would encourage it to keep acting like my body guard (which I would not like), Kid just changed its track and went straight for the dustbin with the rack picker already there. ┬áLove it is 🙂