Image by Igor Ovsyannykov from Pixabay
I was born in a gutter. Soon I
realised I had eight siblings. Four of them died a few days after I was born. I
could barely open my eyes for the first few days after I was born. But I could
feel my mother pick me up by my neck and transport me to various places. It was
from one gutter to another, sometimes under heaps of paper and plastic that
were thrown away by humans.
My mother was a scrawny #bitch and never
had enough milk in her to feed me and my siblings. Every day was like a battle
for her, trying to feed us, and keeping us protected from other animals,
vehicles and humans. It was endless torture for her, trying to fend for us and
keep herself as healthy as possible.
One day, I noticed some humans
approaching us. We were four of us cuddled together trying to keep ourselves
warm on a cold winter morning. “Oh, they are so cute,” said one of the girls
telling her human friend. One of them picked me up and said, “Hey, this one’s
cute, I am going to name him Tommy”. I guess they figured out that I was male.
I don’t know what they named my sisters, but my brother who had a shiny black
coat of fur, he was instantly named “Kalu”. That was how they named every other
stray dog that was black in colour.
They played with us for some time
and I heard them mumbling words like “cute” “beautiful” handsome” etc and they
dumped us back in the gutter where they found us and left. I realised these
human kids were far more gentle than some of the brash local lads who walked
around aimlessly in the evenings. If they were to spot us, they would kick us,
pick us up and throw us around, all the while laughing loudly. How I had wished
I had real strong fangs, I would have bitten off their ears.
Within a few months, we had become
bigger in size, thanks to all the leftover food that was dumped in the gutter
every day. We fed ourselves to our heart’s content. When I was a couple of
years old, I had grown into a big dog and yes, I was handsome to a great
extent. My home still remained in the gutter.
It was then I began noticing other #dogs belonging to
humans living in proper houses. They were a lot healthier than us and
definitely a lot cleaner. They smelt good too. I was kind of jealous. I stank
like a rotten fish and I knew my body had a lot of ticks. No one was there to
comb me, no one was there to bathe me, and no one was there to take me to a vet
when I was unwell. In the gutter, we had to fend for ourselves.
(TO BE CONCLUDED)