Boori’s Story

This is the story of a thin hungry yet-to-mature-into-an-adult dog who took shelter in the narrow rear alley of the building I live in. Clearly starving but utterly delightful this neither-puppy-nor- adult-dog would melt anybody’s heart with its soulful eyes and abundance of affection. Or so I thought. I started offering the remnants of our lunch, once in a day and that made us heroes in her eyes. Scraps of food we wouldn’t eat and an insecure shelter where nobody normally steps in, brought us so much love and trust that it is indescribable.

But nothing works quite right where it eminently should. My two neighbours took strong exceptions to feeding a hungry dog , once in a day. Their grouse was that the alley will get dirty. Goodness, the morning after Umphun, it was my son who cleaned up the alley and beyond, on his own; no one thought of lifting a finger. The dog in question thankfully has such ingrained habits to pee and shit not within the premises. So the opposition is about allowing it to squat in the common space and eat once a day from a pot…… where we are extra vigilant that not a grain gets to litter the ground and it doesn’t. The attitude and the intention within prevented me to state the obvious: that the common space is every owner’s property.

This is really not about the very little space or the very little food for this dog whom my son has christened ‘Boori’. It is about sadism — relishing the fact that ‘I have and you don’t have’, the pleasure of starving a hungry soul, the pleasure of throwing stones and hurting her when all she was doing was sitting silently, all by herself, of throwing her out into the rain and thunder because she fears them most. And in the gang is an octogenarian couple and an overfed, overweight corporate climber.

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