The Dog in the Road

Catherine Nicolette
Many are the joyful times I have spent in India. I love putting on my salwaar kameez with its cool and comfortable cotton, and enjoying walks in the beautiful countryside. Squirrels with two stripes down their back and Disney-like long lashes peek out at visitors from the trees. Purple lotuses drift timelessly among the green water leaves and the soft sacred water of India, reflecting the clouds back to the serene sky. Clouds of colourful parrots fly by in flocks, and peacocks trail long feathers with shining hues. Local markets sell wondrous fabrics glowing with golden thread, hand sewn embroidery and glorious patterns. Women drift by like flowers in the fields, each one a Maharani in sari or salwaar kameez and dupatta. Beautiful hairstyles are embroidered with living jasmine flowers, sold by the jasmine sellers sitting contentedly at gates and sewing the hair ornaments under colourful umbrellas.


Cows wander quietly through the streets, and every now and then an elephant makes its way down the thoroughfare, slowing as the traffic lights turn to red, and speeding up again as they turn to green. India is a place of magic and beauty, and the scents of turmuric, ginger, garlic and spices drift through the air as the street vendors sell wonderful masala dhosa and local food. India has a rhythm all its own, and the beauty of the landscape is a jewel of paradise on earth.


My time in India changed my set of values. There is great reverence for animals, and I saw some lovely sights. One of them was two dogs, both brothers, who used to sleep at night in each others' arms. As one of my friends who was offering me hospitality told me, the two could not settle until they both went to sleep at the same time together. Their mother was brought once a week to visit them, and also to her other sons and daughters doing watchdog duty at other local families' houses. The dogs were exceptionally sweet tempered and happy.


One day we were travelling through the town when I noticed that the horns - which in India are tooted almost non-stop in the streets - fell silent. All the cars slowed down to a crawl, and my friend who was driving our jeep started slowly following the other cars which were all veering carefully first to the left, before coming back again to the right. "What's happening?" I asked, concerned. "Shhhh," my friend whispered, "Look to my right". I looked over to where my friend had indicated, to see a mother dog lying with her puppies in the road next to the traffic island.


We quietly drove on for a while, then cars speeded up again, people bustled on tooting the horns, and scooters roared by, each with at least two occupants balanced securely on the seats. "What was that about?" I asked my friend. He explained that the mother had been crossing the road when she was overtaken by the pangs of birth, and delivered her puppies in the road where she was now nurturing them. The local people were waiting for her puppies to be weaned by the mother and able to get around independently. No one wanted to upset the mother during her time of feeding her babies, hence the quietness. Also everyone had passed the word along to be very careful to drive around the mother and babies.


I was extremely thoughtful on the plane back to Ireland. Was this not what I had been taught? To love and care for each living creature as God did? I went out that day in the jeep on a visit - I came back a changed person with a new reverence for all creation. My friend and his local community's understanding for the dog in the road had touched me...


*Photo taken by Catherine Nicolette