When he was crying in pain…

Escaping from the dream

Which evokes that night

Life goes beyond death

It goes beyond sight

Given the fact that I used to write about the depths of situations, people often asked me if I had ever experienced real grief. My answer always remained the same. No, but one day I will, and I would change completely that day. I was sure I knew what grief felt like even though I had never been through it myself.  But one night is all it takes to change a person’s life completely. Witnessing a sight that altered the course of my life was terrifying and empowering at the same time. Maybe I would have been happier today if I had not seen what I saw that day, but I would not have been where I am today.

29^th July 2024, was when my mother called me as I came back from school and said that she had found a hit-and-run case of a little dog in Shalimar. When she sent me a photo, I was horrified. The little dog was half-dead, paralyzed and covered in flies. My logical mind said that he was not capable of being saved but the little ounce of hope in my heart told me to get him home and try my best. I told my mother to get him to the vet as soon as she could and that I would meet her right at the clinic. She got him in her own car, we met at Pet Arena, Karan Nagar and the doctor put him on an IV drip, the moment we arrived as he was severely dehydrated. He was given medicines for two days and we planned on doing an X-ray on the third day. We also planned on admitting him to Central Veterinary Hospital but were advised against it statedly caring for pets not being available beyond daytime.

We were told to be hopeful but I had been a volunteer at the same clinic for the past six months on Sundays and knew when to be hopeful. I knew that the chances were slim but the logician in me had died the day I met that dog, who was in complete agony. The only thing I wanted to do now was to save him. I was ready to take care of him for the rest of his life but I was not ready to see him die. We kept him in our own home, I fed it with my own hands, I gave him medicines myself, my mother and sister pet him and he wagged his tail and my father spent the majority of his evening in the garden to keep an eye on him, as his cries full of pain, made us all sleepless and restless.

The doctor, being on call with me,  guided me through the whole process of caring for a dog. Though our hopes increased as he lifted his head a little on the second day, they declined the very night when he suffered seizures. I vividly remember his shaking body, his foaming mouth and pleading eyes. The only thing me and my family could do that night was stay beside him that whole time and watch him die  a very painful death. Maybe if he was a human, a hospital would have taken him. But the phrase “To die a dog’s death” held its meaning that night. Maybe if one veterinary hospital had been full-time functional, he would have been saved. Maybe if I had more knowledge about the field, he would have lived.

It took me some time to realize that his time had come and no power on earth could have saved him. We got him lifted to CVH the next morning because he was breathing. But the blueness in his eyes was enough for everyone to know that he was gone. He was pronounced dead moments after he arrived at CVH. We named him Goldie after his death. I was not able to save Goldie and I will loathe the system, the veterinary hospital, and myself, my whole life for not being able to do so, but Goldie will forever remain the reason I decided to serve  this purpose. He will forever leave a scar on our system and the way we think. No other dog should die the death he did. We should not allow it, after all, we are humans.

At last, even though I thought I was not ready to see him die, I did. I finally experienced grief at his loss and could now tell everyone what I had been through as a human. The only problem was that I knew that no one would understand. They would laugh at me for even trying to save a dog. But if they laugh, so be it, they would never experience the amount of happiness helping an animal provides you, particularly when it is in distress. Some people told me that he was probably a lucky dog to have been cared for so much. Luck is unpredictable but he sure was cared for at his end. He was cared for by people who wept when he went away.

His cries in pain still haunt us all. He was cared for because now we, as a humane society, can all aspire and work collectively to have a 24/7 functioning veterinary hospital in Kashmir. He was cared for because people would fight for animals in pain, like him. Justice would be served the day a dying dog would be taken to the hospital and he would be treated with care instead of indifference. Justice would be served the day a car slows down for a dog, instead of running it over  and leaving it distressed or dead. Justice would be served the day not only humans but animals are also treated with dignity at least, if not with affection.