I'd just barely exited the airport and was headed to the parking area for my ride when I saw what looked like a dead dog in the street. A terrible start to my visit to India.
Nope, not dead. Sleeping, in fact, and sleeping quite soundly with his head inclined on the warm, asphalt speed bump. In fact, he was wearing a little vest or a sweater of some sort. Hmm, clearly I had some things to learn about India.
One of the things I learned is that there are millions and millions of dogs in Delhi like this one napping in the open-air market, and I can only assume in the other cities as well. They're street dogs, and they do what dogs do best: fight, chase other dogs out of their territory, forage for food, nap, and make puppies. And Indians, in their quintessential love and respect for all forms of life, pretty much let them be. Not sure about the little vests, must be some sort of symbol that a particular dog is cared for. They're kind of cute.
Not an easy life, over all: I saw one pupper in a cast who had clearly had a run in with traffic. But he hobbled around through the market and people gave him bits of things to eat, so he was doing OK. Others seemed to be pretty well off.
Not a single one had the tell-tale curly hair of a lab-created something-doodle.
Live well, Indian puppers. Live well.
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