Olly, Harry, Suzie, Asha, Julie, Amar.  These were the names of the six dogs I had. No kidding!  Asha was the bitch alpha of the pack, she snarled at the male dogs if they ever tried to mess around with her.  However knowing that I was her Master and also the bearer of good food made her submissive to my demands—that she did not put her dirty paws on the couch, that parts of the house were off limits, and above all when I was around she was to be friendly with the rest of the pack.  Amar, Olly and Harry adored her and treated her like Big Mama.  Although in terms of age, Julie was a lot older.  The neighborhood butchers knew me and treated me like their brother from another mother as I would try and get all the freebies in their shops for the dogs—chicken claws, chicken skin, pieces of beef, and chicken necks.  Boiled with brown rice and lentils, without any additives (no salt, or anything to flavor the food), this was the daily diet of my pets.  Nobody human, or remotely animal would try and mess with me when I set out to work as the six rescued dogs would follow my shadow till the gates of the building compound.  They were perfect bodyguards in their shiny fur—black, brown, spotted, white, grayish-black, and light grey.  Mumbai is a city of pariahs or street dogs, and I had found a home for these puppies when they were abandoned by their mother.

As you can imagine, it was a tough job to look after these six mongrels.  They roamed the territory of the building confines and at night would sleep in our backyard.  Every week while watering the garden I would also use a liberal amount of Lifebuoy soap, also called dog soap and hose them.  Dousing and dusting with anti-tick and flea powder would follow, and they were clean enough for a couple of days.  Friends would invite me to go out of town, and I would politely decline, relatives who lived in other provinces would wonder why I never visited. But for at least ten years (the lifetime of a dog, approximately) I had a great time with my pack of furry friends, no regrets.  What I learned from them was how to live harmoniously, well more or less.  To be absolutely honest, they had better skills than humans for the most part.  The number one house rule which they followed and I can never forget; is that they did not hold grudges.  Well, not for long.  Maybe, 15 minutes, or less.

Well sometimes Suzie was a grouch, but even she didn’t stay angry for long, even with Amar who was the most irritating animal you could ever meet.  He always was in need—for attention, for love, for food, for sex, for comfort, for more attention.  Well, he would get an angry bark to correct him for his annoying neediness, and at times even a nip on the ears, but that was that.  For the most part the other dogs still sniffed at his butt with affection, and wagged their tails when chasing him around.  They forgave him for his differences, and made him feel included.  Maybe they understood that he was an orphan as well, only one with too many needs.

They say that you have to train an animal to be responsible.  But I did not train the dogs to eat only what was offered to each dog, and not to try and grab what wasn’t offered to them.  Yet with a great sense of obedience they did not snarl, or poke their faces into their partners’ doggie bowl, they actually followed rules.  When the food was portioned out, not a single one would try and get the others bones.  They never showed greed and avarice.  The best part was that I had my favorites, and which human being doesn’t?  But even when I showed the favoritism with the biscuits I meted out, I did not see envy in the rest of the pack.  All that they did was give barks of delight, a kind of Hip! Hip! Hurray! In their language to the one who got all the attention, and that was that!

Now here’s the most interesting part—Harry, also called ‘No-balz’ by me was the dog with no genitals.  The vets at the municipality that had him castrated, I guess without remorse in their sharp slice-n-dice knife left him without his nuts, or his tool.  As a result he would pee-pee like a lady dog, not like Olly or Amar who would raise a leg, and shoot their uric acid all over town.  I kid you not, the affection all the dogs would show ‘No-balz’ was above and beyond I’ve seen a human being extend to each other.  Whether castrated emotionally, or otherwise.

Jude Paul Fernandes is the author of ‘Frost Bites’ that is available in the Toronto Public Library, and he can be followed @JudePaulFerns