When the dogs are away the cats will play

 

                                              

The stray dogs on the street outside my gate did not bother me much as long as they stayed on their territory and I stayed on mine. Every time I opened the gate they would glance at me lazily and I would return the glare, seemingly without any apprehension but actually alert and ready to take cover in case one of them decides to pounce and make mincemeat of me. ‘ Let sleeping dogs lie…’ I followed the adage to the letter.

This kind of non interfering camaraderie was broken one night when a big white dog with a collar around its neck joined the pack. The normally docile dogs took a cue from the new leader and turned into a pack of aggressive canines, jumping over compound walls, chewing  shoes, sandals , and anything else they could find outside, particularly on the verandah. My neighbours had alerted me but I paid scant regard , thinking the dogs which looked so harmless could not change into ferocious beings overnight. Until one midnight when I was woken from deep slumber by the alarmed screams of an animal followed by the excited barking of dogs. As I came fully awake, I heard, mingled with the animal cries,  human voices shouting  and the pelting of stones. I switched on the CCTV camera on my mobile and found to my horror, a pack of dogs running helter skelter on my beautifully  laid out  lawn , chasing some  scurrying animal . On opening the window which overlooked the garden, I saw four young men , the tenants of the opposite house, shouting and pelting stones at the dogs which were attacking a small form that was trying to free itself and escape. The boys shouted to me not to come out as the dogs were dangerously aggressive. As they continued to pelt stones, the dogs , carrying the hapless animal, ran towards the back of the house. I switched on the master switch, illuminating  the garden and the drive way in  bright light. The sudden lights helped to disperse the dogs. As they scattered, I mustered courage and opened the back door a bit. I had kept curtain rods there to support the plants. I threw one at a dog , it yelped and ran. All other dogs followed suit, jumping over the compound wall from different sides. There was no sign of the wounded animal and no more cries. I consoled myself that perhaps it might have escaped. But the next morning revealed the mauled carcass of a civet cat in the corner of the garden. This murder of a helpless, harmless animal in the darkness of the night right in my garden disheartened and infuriated me no end .  I decided to take action.

The first phase of the action plan was to write  a message to  the Residents association authorities, drawing their  notice  to   sleep disruption caused to the residents and the mental trauma caused by the murder at mid night. Around the same time, many cases of stray dog attacks were reported in the city and the association rolled into action. The owner  of the bully dog was identified and was requested to keep the dog confined to his territory. The subsequent happenings are a little unclear to me . There were rumours of Corporation dog catchers taking away the dogs for neutering , of a shelter for stray dogs maintained by a dog lover  where  the dogs were fed and roomed. Miraculously the dog menace reduced and almost stopped.  However I was not prepared to take any chances.  The well meaning contractor who built our house , fixed railings  above the compound wall, raising the height so as to keep even the best high jumpers among the dogs at bay. I could rest easy, complacent in the belief  that my house was now secure from dog attack.

Months passed. While sitting on the verandah, enjoying my cuppa, listening to the chattering of birds on the trees , I lazily observed that the cacophonous hullaballoo created by my winged friends had somehow decreased in intensity. Soon  the reason came to light. When the dogs  were  away the cats had sprung into action . The neighbourhood cat, emboldened  by the absence of the dogs had decided to encroach upon my property. He would bask in sunlight on the driveway , striking a pose which would put even Cleopatra to shame. At times he would hide under the bushes, pouncing on the hapless birds. Though the cat was well trained in climbing walls and trees, the birds proved  too clever for him   . Soon the cat was joined by two others. One was pitch black with  bright  tawny eyes  burning and accusing me as if I was the encroacher. The other one was  in battle combat, the camouflage giving me no indication that a cat was nearby until it moved. The threesome soon joined hands, nay paws, to attack  birds, mice or anything that they could subdue with their combined strength.

My morning hour on the verandah is now interrupted not by the chirping of birds, but by my own loud shouts and screams as I try to chase away the cats before they could gobble up the birds. Evidence  by way of loose  feathers scattered on the lawn and the driveway  proved that my attempts were futile . The mynahs  which were my early morning visitors have stopped their  frequent visits. Only the tiny ones which flit in and out of the bushes and the kites which soar  far above  continue their fearless  pursuits. And the cats continue to defile my space, unabashedly claiming my property as theirs. They climb upon my dwarf coconut palm, toppling the baby elephant which is our coveted garden ornament.  They even keep vigil on the verandah when I am not around. Enhancing the height of the compound wall does not deter them, my shouts of displeasure do not hinder them, the occasional water spray that I use on them has only temporary effect. Now we have learnt to tolerate and live together in uneasy harmony.  Better by far to accommodate these smart furry creatures  who carry themselves regally with dignity than to live in fear of the four legged canines who kill for pleasure .