CHENNAI: Last fortnight in Germany, I watched with interest the very well-behaved dogs taken to restaurants, railway stations, supermarkets — everywhere. While walking or crossing roads, they were three steps behind the owner, extremely responsive and well-behaved. They weren’t going to pull ahead, sniff or get excited about the dog ahead. I know my dog, and I know all my lovely dogs at the Cubbon Dog Park, and I was super impressed.
It made me think about how things are here. All of us want to have an environment where our dogs are welcome and we can take them where we go, and not leave them at home. However, let’s face it, most of our dogs have strong personalities and not all of them behave the way we want them to. My dog is convinced that everyone is going to swallow me up whole and tends to bark frantically and loudly to make sure they don’t. It sounds funny, but I suppose the very nature of our pets — being unchained at home but leashed outside — are defined personalities that we take for granted and accept them as they are. So when I looked at these wonderfully well-behaved dogs and their almost being a subset of the human that they love, I admired it so much but I’m not sure I entirely got it. I do wish that most of us in India would manage the temperament and obedience of our dogs both inside and outside; that we were more responsible in terms of how we manage them and how they are accepted in the community. However, when I recalled those well-behaved nature of many of the dogs that I saw, I realised that unless they’re in the dog park or somewhere free-range, I’m looking hard for the personality, and I’m not able to find it.
At the Berlin Central Railway Station, I met Zuko, a gorgeous blue merle Australian sheepdog, and his parents travelling back to Hamburg for the weekend. I had to ask their permission before I could say hello to him, or bend down to pet him, he wagged his tail and submitted happily, but he kept his hazel eyes fixated on his parents. As I touched his soft fur I just wished my little fella JD was a little bit more like him. On the other hand, did I? We reached the Black Forest region the next day, and on one of the hikes through to Frieberg two barking, unleashed yellow labradors passed us, taking the path uphill towards the left. We were trying to do pranayam in the unbelievably pure air there, so my husband rolled his eyes as I turned left instead of following the group to the right in order to say hello to the dogs. Both came running straight up to me barking madly. Anyone else would’ve been scared but I was delighted to find two rambunctious dogs and as I chatted with the owner. Don’t worry, they are pretty friendly, he said, as Mia jumped up at me, while Tara lay panting next to her. I was delighted to know that they are sisters , seven years old and like all dogs absolutely loved neck scratches and belly rubs.
I loved the life of the lovely dogs that we met in Germany like Zuko, Mia and Tara; the physical space, human companionship and the wonderful outdoor lives that they had with their folks, and wished we could do more like that. When I came back and rang the bell, to the jumping and high-pitched barking of my horribly behaved monkey dog, I chuckled delightedly. I clearly have double standards. I love dogs, all of them, and warts and all, but I love being back home.
Priya Chetty-Rajagopal
The author is a CXO search consultant, civic evangelist, Bangalore champion, Google-Doodle aspirer and certified dog slave since 2007