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I was about six weeks old, playing in a very busy street in the mid-morning sunshine and the next thing I knew, this South African woman scooped me up and took me into the slum along the side of the road to inquire if I belonged to someone (as if I could really belong to anyone!) or if anyone knew me. No one had seen me before or seemed interested in knowing or helping me. I was a few seconds from being run over by either a rickshaw, a car or a lorry they later told me.
Yvonne, as my future mom is called, didn’t have the heart to put me back on the street. And then I noticed that she wasn’t alone and had her friend Lee with her. In fact, that’s partly how I got my name. My name Leela means ‘play’ or even ‘divine play of consciousness’ and Yvonne named me in part to honor Lee and partly, well you have to hear the rest of the story. After nobody would claim me, Yvonne gently placed me in her handbag and she and Lee walked into the local bookstore, where they were headed before encountering me in the street. I looked around me, I was safe and cozy in a dark and warm environment and I immediately fell asleep. Yvonne kept nudging me to see if I was breathing. Somehow, she was worried about me and wanted to find out if I was OK. I think that I had already entered her heart (they say she has a soft spot for strays) and that this would be the beginning of a great connection for both of us.
She took me back to where she was staying (it was my first rickshaw ride – fun!) and she called the local vet who told her to feed me some buffalo milk and rice paste. I perked up immediately. Then I noticed this colorful round thing in the room. It was about my size, so I went up to it to sniff it and say hello. And when I touched it to play, it rolled away. And I couldn’t resist following it. So I touched it again and again and that’s when Yvonne decided to name me Leela, as she could see that I loved to play, especially with a ball.
I sniffed around and got to know my new temporary flat, while Yvonne tried to make me feel at home before going to her yoga class. She made me a little bed out of towels and put down bowls of milk and food. And, she put some down some newspapers, knowing I would have to relieve myself while she was away. She left and there was a huge thunderstorm, so I ran for cover under her bed. After a time, I ventured out and noticed a big bright ball in the night sky. And it invited me to sing to it, so I howled and howled and the moon smiled back at me. When Yvonne came home, I was still howling away.
The next day, I went to see Dr. Pardeshi, my first vet. While waiting for the doctor to arrive, I met a wonderful lady named Corinna, who loved me the minute she saw me. She lived nearby with her family and would help take care of me over the month while Yvonne finished her studies. Dr. Pardeshi described me as a typical Indian street dog. I have tried not to take this personally, as I am too special to be called ‘typical’. He said I was healthy except for mange on my tail. Yvonne also took some deworming medicine home for me.I continued to get stronger and stronger. Yvonne had told me that we would be making a big trip on a giant bird with stiff wings to go to her home in America and that I needed to be a very good puppy... Over the next month, I got healthier and grew stronger and I felt so loved by everyone. In fact, when it came time to go, I could hardly fit into the bag that my mom’s friend K-Lea brought from America.
Mom (I started to call Yvonne that) and I took a three-hour Cool Cab taxi from Pune to Bombay – which was a real adventure! It was so much fun; we kept the windows down and my ears were flapping in the wind.
To break up our big trip, we stopped at the home of Mom’s friends Jaya and Mohan in Bombay. Hours later, we went to the airport for our 18+ hour journey to New York. Mom insisted on finding an airline that would allow her to take me on board, so that she could accompany me on the long ride and make sure I wasn’t too frightened. It cost her a pretty penny too!After we cleared passport control (I didn’t need one), I strutted down the long hall to the international departure lounge, my head in the air, confident that I was loved and safe and looking forward to my long trip on the big metal bird.
(Stay tuned for Chapter 2: Getting Settled in New York)
Yvonne de Kock and CJ Lonoff
NYC, USA
Benji was left in Ganganagar by the NGO which neutered him and he wandered into my lane. The poor kid was getting battered by the people in my lane as he wanted to get away from the other strays in our area.My brother and I could not bear this for long and two weeks after his first appearance we adopted him. I was at first really nervous about this decision but now I feel really lucky to have him. He is so loving and protective, especially about Elsa my beautiful Tibetan Terrier. He is simply devoted to my brother and Elsa and just loves me and my Dad. He has appointed himself his bodyguard and every few hours he will go and see how my Dad is. I am really thankful to have him and really can’t imagine my life without him.Ashvina Bativala
Bangalore
(Benji is ten months old. His owner Ashvina was a volunteer at WSD even before I joined, way back in 1993! Ashvina boards dogs at her home and Benji is only too happy to have new dogs to play with).
This pretty INDog-mix is Timu, newly recruited into the Club. He lives with owner Manisha Abhyankar in Vasai. Timu is just under 2 years old.
Indog-mix Brownie (can anyone tell me what breed he is mixed with?) was left on my street in Mumbai in March 2007, and after a month of running around and fighting with the local dogs he entered my building compound and started living there.
(I had absolutely nothing to do with this!)
Brownie loves both people and dogs, and soon became a favourite with many people – the watchmen, many of the building adults and kids. One kind lady tried to adopt him as a house pet, but Brownie scratched the polish right off her front door, tried to jump out of the window, chewed up his collar and leash, and managed to escape so many times that she finally gave up the unequal struggle and settled for feeding him several large meals daily. Most of the day he would spend racing around the neighbouring park and seaface with his three dog friends. Most of the night he would spend organizing concerts with the same three dog friends. Brownie would do the lead and they would do backup.Unfortunately our building has its fair share of people who are seriously scared of dogs, even the harmless bunch of dogs we are blessed with. (What is it with Mumbai people by the way – why on earth are so many of us so completely disconnected from animals and nature?) Brownie’s outgoing personality did not make him as universally popular as one would have expected. In the wee hours of one fateful morning he made the mistake of barking at a young man returning home up the building driveway. This is perfectly normal dog behaviour at 2.30 a.m. – it is in fact very useful dog behaviour - but the man was extremely frightened (will someone please explain to people that barking is not a sign of aggression, growling is?) The next day there was this stern letter up on the building notice board, saying that some dogs had “attempted to bite” members of the Society – quite a different version of the event from the one given by eyewitnesses by the way. I thought it best to whisk poor Brownie away to a place where he would be better appreciated, and even decided to adopt him myself for the Nagaon house if nothing else worked out, though frankly I am not looking for another dog.
Within two hours of reaching my house he had chewed up the telephone wire and started work on one of the desk legs. At this point my caretaker Gharat became very enthusiastic about searching for a nice home for him. A local gentleman named Rajaram Athavale was called over to see him and took a great liking to him, so with a certain relief we handed Brownie over. Mr Athavale owns a little tourist cottage and a farm, and he lives very close to my house. Although he is a strict vegetarian he has arranged to have chicken cooked for Brownie every day. Best of all, his children adore Brownie. Give me rural people over city people any day. Not all villagers like dogs, it’s true…but they certainly don’t squawk or climb up the walls every time a dog passes by.
Brownie has been there for two and a half months now. I meet him often on the beach, racing and playing with a pack of beach dogs he has joined. Brownie runs like the wind, faster than any dog I’ve ever seen. The dog he is racing in the beautiful sunset silhouette photo (taken by Rohan Mukerjee) is the local alpha, whom I’ve known from a puppy and have named “Star of Nagaon.” The collared dog on the left in the last photo is our Lucy.
His owner has only one complaint about him, though he loves him dearly. Brownie isn’t aggressive enough. He makes friends with everybody and doesn’t bark at anyone.
Strange! The same dog was considered a grave danger by some of my Mumbai neighbours. Poor Brownie…can’t seem to please anybody.
Rajashree Khalap
Sunset photo: Rohan Mukerjee
