Living with animals



Penny remarked that animals are integrated into life in the India we visited in a way we haven't seen anywhere else.

Here in Annandale there are plenty of dogs in the street and parks, either on leashes or clearly attached to particular humans; an occasional cat ventures out to lie in the sun; a number of species of winged wildlife fly around; and then there are our secret sharers, like rats, possums, cockroaches. We don't even have squirrels -- am I right in thinking that Australians are the only visitors to Europe, North America and Asia who are entranced by squirrels? In the country, there's a greater diversity, but in general the livestock stay in the paddocks, and feral animals and natives mostly stay out of harm's way. In my household, we're mildly thrilled when a possum or a blue-tongue lizard comes calling, and the two frogs that clonk in our pond at night warm our hearts.

In Delhi, the newspapers were reporting campaigns to deal with stray dogs, but no one seemed to think the monkeys were a problem. This little family was keeping an eye on the Karol Bagh markets in Delhi.



This lot are temple monkeys in a village near Boondi, but they occasionally leap over the wall to make raids on the stalls nearby. This man may have been doing a service, or encouraging their marauding, who knows?



Snakes, of course, were a source of income. Within seconds of Penny taking this snap, a young man had appeared at her elbow demanding Rs.100/- (a hundred rupees, equivalent of $3 AUD). She gave him Rs. 20/-.



And cows were everywhere, mostly looking like the breeds we called Brahman and Zebu in my childhood. These were restfully sharing the space, one in the Delhi spice market and the other in Pushkar. But everywhere we came across them, wandering in the road with an air of casual entitlement, or munching methodically on piles of cardboard put out in the street for them.



Once out in the country we ran into plenty of camels, not only for tourists' entertainment:



In many villages, pigs performed invaluable services in the absence of garbage disposal units or sewerage. Given the heroic eating habits of some of these public servants it's no wonder people in those parts don't eat pork.



Dogs, you might think, tend to have a harder life there than here. You'd probably be right, but there are indications that dogs everywhere know how to train humans to pamper them. Balo, the one domestic dog we met on his home turf, barked at us ineffectually when we arrived for dinner, then made himself scarce. His owners told us that he lives mainly on chapatis and leftover vegetable curry -- but won't eat the chapatis unless they are buttered. Here he is laying claim to the only couch in the house:


Posted: Wed - January 23, 2008 at 08:05 PM           |

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