I was having my early morning coffee when I heard a dog howl or as many people prefer to call it, crying. My wife went out to check and came in to inform me that it was not a dog from around here and it was a weak white dog which probably strayed into this area. I asked her to give it some food as it is hungry and has been howling out of discomfort.
I also went out to take a look, the dog was probably about 8 months old, quite tiny, weak and very fragile. As there is empty land in front of my house, the dog was some distance away and I noticed a young kid, about 12 years old crouching and slowly creeping up to the dog, when I paid attention, I noticed he had rocks in both his hands, the rock in his left hand was smaller in the size of an average tomato, however, the rock he had in his right hand was slightly bigger than the dogs head. Now, his intentions were very clear, he wanted to gain good ground before unleashing those two stones. Why he wanted to do this was unclear, however, the methodical manner in which he was planning to inflict pain and probably seriously injure the poor creature was shocking to me.
I yelled at the boy and asked him to get lost, just like the dog, this kid has also strayed into our street, he disappeared.
Although the dog was saved this time, if the boy decided to vent his anger on the dog after I had left the scene, he could kill the dog or injure it seriously and there was nothing that I could do. The above scenario reminded me how I was brought up by my parents, they explained that life was something to celebrate, irrelevant of which form it was in. As a child I always had a pet, be it a dog, a chicken, ducks, tortoise, rabbits or cats. I loved all of them, wept when they died or got lost and I remember most of them.
Until recently till my mother passed away, she would cook two different kinds of rice, one was for us and the other was for the dogs that would wait outside our house every night. She did this patiently for over 10 years, dogs would come dogs would go but she just kept doing this for the sake of it. About 8 to 10 dogs would feed every day. She even kept tabs of the dogs, she knew each one, she called me out one day and said watch this, this dog jumps in joy like a deer when I feed it and it did when my mother gave it food, it was so excited, so happy that someone was providing for it. Seeing this, my mothers face lit up, she was happy because the dog was, aren’t these the small joys of life that are priceless, joys that cannot be planned or awarded.
I have become the same, I find joy in feeding animals, rescuing them at every given opportunity. This I think transpires into what kind of a person you are morally and ethically. I am not saying that the kid in this story will grow up into this evil murderous crime and the hatred filled person or that I am the perfect human being. However, I am worried that someone who gets a sense of fulfillment by injuring or causing pain to a helpless dog might not be the best to represent the next generation.