Beware of Stray Dogs!” displays a poster on the bulletin board of Semien Clinic. There is nothing new in that warning. But the notice has been printed on new paper. The anti-rabies vaccines are almost out of stock, while the population of infected stray dogs is feared to be on the increase.
House dogs can be bitten by infected stray dogs and could turn hazardous to human beings. Chaining pet dogs is no guarantee for their safety, if the chained canines without doggerels are exposed and accessible to mad dogs. These affected pets could be contagious without their owners or guardians being aware of the contact.
Keeping pet dogs at home just as a member of the household or for the simple objective of intimacy is not a common practice in our country. From time immemorial, dogs have been considered by families as part of the labour force. It could be in the form of herding domestic animals or serving as alarm bells, if not night guards, to fend off any intruder.
Some sort of training may be necessary to train these dogs to enable them perform their duties to the satisfaction of their owners. They are to be rewarded generously in terms of delicacies or bones of their desires.
In the absence of such tips, there are times when the dogs tend to help themselves by hunting whatever comes into their clutches. In earlier times, mobile beggars carrying food were attractive targets.
But these days, beggars seem to know better. They have changed their style of earning their daily bread. They find it easier to sit at the road side in villages, spreading a sheet of paper or cloth, putting a few coins on them and barking names of saints and angels to hunt the sympathy of passers-by.
This is begging for the donation on soft currency with less effort. They spare themselves the challenges of village dogs and wondering about.
Stray dogs are seen running around places at all times of the day and do not seem to have any specific destination or purpose. A closer look at their daily lives reveals that stray dogs have less to enjoy than what they live to suffer from.
The first and most harsh provocation against stray dogs comes from a house dog that sniffs from a distance their presence and chases it, attacking it mercilessly. Whether the crackdown emanates from the desire to maintain the dog’s sovereign right over territory or another cause is not known. But the practice remains true.
The other attack often comes from street children, who often befriend them to use them as a source of warmth by rubbing shoulders and suffering bad weather with them. Village boys seem to only be interested in throwing rocks at them with no purpose, perhaps other than to prove that they are sharp shooters.
Their other rivalry comes from the municipal exterminators. They roam about the streets of the capital at dawn hunting for stray dogs. When they see them, they extend their generous hands, throwing them a chunk of poisoned meat.
The hungry stray dogs take no time at all to pay back the gratitude. They fight over the bones and bite each other to scramble over the delicacy faster than expected, only to find themselves feeling nauseas and vomiting. No sooner than the poisoned dogs kick the dust than the municipal gang come with their iron stranglers to tie around their necks and drag them to their dog bins – their final resting place.
Much as there seems to be enemies of the stray dogs around, there are also friends of these dogs among the community. Children, in particular, could be cited as good examples.
My own experience could be an example worth telling. It happened when I was only 10 years of age.
One rainy day, during the school vacation, my mother had sent me out to do some shopping. Holding up an umbrella to take refuge from the heavy downpour, I was walking in fear of what will follow from the stormy rain and thunder, which occasionally flashed up with lightning, when I heard the sound of a little puppy in the road side ditch barking in a pleading tone.
I could not resist the temptation of picking up the little furry puppy, not so much for altruistic reasons but more so the desire to possess it. I hid it away from my mother and managed to give it a safe haven, until one day its pleading noise exposed it. Discovering that the little dog had been around for quite some time by then, my mother reluctantly accepted its membership as part of our household. Thus, the little canine became an officially accepted house dog as it were.
With me giving it all the possible attention, the small pup grew to be a big dog that was a power to be reckoned with by any intruder.
I had to chain it for the wellbeing of our neighbours, who could be present to visit us. I had managed to teach the dog, who made a name for itself with some wonderful tricks – like standing up straight, although for a short while, and saluting me with its front limb, obeying my orders. Indeed, Tafere became a dog that lived up to its name.
The dog was white in colour, except for its brown head vertically down to its nose crossed by a thin white line. It was about one metre in length from tail to head and about half a metre in height. Its voice was like rumbling thunder when it barked at full force.
I had sort of felt a feeling of pride when the neighbourhood talked about Tafere with high praise, until one day the unexpected happened. A mad dog came home to bite him hard and deadly. Tafere suffered from the wounds.
We were advised to take the dog to the Pasteur Institute for examination. We did that accordingly and sadly discovered that it had been infected with the disease and had to be killed there and then.
The dresser was tipped for his service for mercy killing. He used an injection after taking the dog to the back yard. I still visualise the way the poor animal gazed at us with pleading eyes before he died.
That was the last time in my life that I had a pet dog. Dog owners must be careful not to expose their dogs such dangers or else it could be too late. I feel deeply touched by the saga of Tafere – the once stray puppy who grew into a furious canine that lived with me as my pet.
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