The kingdom of dogs

There is a new dog wanting to join the pack in Rahamatabad area. She lost her pack in Kotal area after they were dispersed in a terrible incident. She doesn’t have a name but usually goes by the name ‘Brown’. Brown found herself in a human cemetery surrounded by a pack of horny dogs on a September day.

Brown was never fond of her birth given place, something rather unusual for dogs. It is said among the pack ‘when eventuality meets the destiny, an equation which brings death; according the pivotal mythology of dogs; the dog heads the trail, abandoning the pack’. Kotal neighbourhood is not friendly for what is known as street dogs. The neighbourhood has too many children encouraged, even more than Brown species, in aggression as a way of survival. Food is scarce in Kotal, no market or Bazaar is in the area. And the worst; it is located on the highway connecting Kabul to the north. Many dogs and sometimes their pursuing children have collided with the racing traffic.

Chamtalla an old pasture between Kotal and Rahmatabad has now turned into a waste disposal location for Kabul municipality. Brown realising September is the time when dogs breed and food in Kotal would even become scarcer set out one day in search of food. After snuffling and searching for a couple of miles in Chamtalla and when her nose was weary and her feet powerless to search any further her eyes found Kabul waste disposal grounds. Vast mountains of litter reaching behind dog’s sight, filled with loads of potential edible. Brown spent a few days digging and eating; she found places to sleep but she didn’t feel quite right. She missed the pack, the barking, the running and the togetherness. She sets off in search of her pack; after a day of walking she reached the opposite side of Chamtalla, Rahmatabad.

Brown meets a pack of dogs on the top of a hill turned into a cemetery; there are three small hills in the middle of Rahmatabad, one abandoned after the military use and the other two are now cemetery. The pack is digging a grave or two and taking out dead peoples’ bones from the grave. This is not quite the time for it to happen, it takes place after a few snows and during the snow more than 60cm. it is not early in calendar calculation; by this time other years there are many snows already. Dogs seem to be confused about the season. Dogs only digs graves for food when heavy snow fall and people tend to hole up at homes and there is not much left over available on the streets from the people and there is not much to be found in the litter. Dead human bones are the last resort of dogs at the face of starvation. Some people who are relatively well off tend to build a cage around their family grave. The cage protects the grave from the bone-eaters. Digging grave is an instinct developed as a survival strife in some dogs, man’s best friend. It is unusual for dogs to dig like rats, as deep as up to 2 – 3 meters.

When the pack sees Brown, they start barking and running toward Brown; leaving other female dogs alone. She doesn’t seem to be scared but she starts running around the cemetery chased by the pack. She has to play the mating game which requires her not to give up until there is one last dog left. The dogs start to sniff her back. Brown starts to be scared, some of the dogs are more aggressive than usual. Then the fight over Brown starts; to choose the one dog which should be left at the end to make the puppies. The dogs now want to take the fight to the mountains nearby. As the fight gets very loud and crowded; neighbourhood children wants to join, not because they are interested in mating with the dog but loves any fight to be part of. Among the pack there are dogs of varied strength. Some dogs tend not to participate in this great but also brutal fun festival. A number of the male dogs had been a pet or rather animal toy for the neighbourhood boys. There are still ropes around their nicks which always comes handy when a new child wants to catch them. Some of the dogs have been injured; they can’t participate in the mating. They usually are limping behind the pack. Another type of dogs is called the needle-dog. The needle dogs had swallowed a needle when feeding on the litter. It is either a sewing needle but more often an injection needle from a pharmacy or hospital waste disposal. In Rahmatabad there is a pharmaceutical factory producing among other things synergies too. The factory has a huge waste dumping ground right behind their compound on the surface level in the open space. Dogs when hungry do go and eat industrial waste and sometimes swallow a needle. The needle dogs can’t keep it quite; they run around in circles but when the needle in their stomach doesn’t hurt they chill for a minute or two as though they are sculptures. The needle dogs punch the way to be part of the social dog life but the needle stabs rein them other way. The mating contest and Brown was taken to the mountains. Mamor which is not his real name but simply mean the officer. He got the name because he was working for the government for several years and everyone who works for the government is an officer for villagers. Mamor is watching the mating contest and realises that Brown is new in Rahmatabad. A couple of days later Brown returns to Rahmatabad to get some food when Mamor saw her at a glance while heading to the local school where he teaches. In the afternoon when Mamor returned home Brown was on the street sniffing about doors; dragged into this street by the strong smell of frying meat. Mamor give Brown some food in return to which Brown pointed her nose to the sky in what Mamor believes to be a prayer. Brown disappeared for a few months but was back at Mamors door before giving birth, pregnant and hungry. Mamor homed Brown in a large compound next to his house, empty with tall walls but a good place for Brown to give birth for her puppies. Brown was loud at first. She couldn’t stop barking; neighbourhood dogs joined the barking chat too. Mamor was not sure at first in the face of the noise. The neighbours have dogs for protection. They grow them cruel; cutting ears and tails of an aggressive breed, always leashed on chains. Dogs are used as a weapon to keep stranger or burglars out; only being released at night. I used to have such a dog, named Jangjaw – the warrior – but it went nasty; not even allowing the children to play in the garden. We had to set him free in a desert. Neighbours alarm-dogs quietened soon after they got used to Brown. Mamor one day found another dog in the compound. More and more dogs were coming to the street. Dogs in the drizzling days and chilly nights of the winter tend to look for lavatory holes or any other wall crack to enter into houses. Mamor blocked the hole from where the dog had entered the compound. Mamor knew Brown was pregnant and wanted to keep her safe and away from dogs. For Brown to go out playing with other dogs it was dangerous. There are friends and foes on the street. Among the foes are drivers. It is hard to find a driver in Kabul who hasn’t run over a few dogs. Some mornings when I walk to my favourite mountain spot to watch the sun rise I see a couple of dogs being squashed to the road. Drivers are the reckless enemy and often they don’t bother to break when a dog is on the road. Night-Watchers, as they are called for private guards protecting business areas and shops, are dogs’ friends. There are several times more night-watchers than police protecting private ownership and they are far nicer to everything and everyone including dogs. Night-watchers carry a big stick and make a huge fire on the street corners. Dogs are attracted to the warmth and light of the fire. The friendship of nightwatcher and dog is a mutual friendship. Dogs are kept warm by the fire in return they look after the shops in the nightwatcher territory. There are also other threats for a dog like Brown. There are three strains of dogs. The central dogs live in downtown Kabul and are quite domesticated and almost behave as pets. However, they don’t take kindly intruders. There are also mountain dogs and the third strain is wild dogs. Mountain dogs are very common in Rahamatabad; the area is immediately surrounded by rocky mountains. Mountain dogs, unlike centre dogs, have wild sources of food such as hunting and dead humans bones. Lone mountain dogs during the day do not pose a threat to anyone but when at packs they could be intimidating. One night after having some whisky with a couple of mates, I decided to take a hike just before midnight when we were chased by a large pack of something around 30 dogs, they were attacking and pulling my cloak. A lone person should be scared of the pack at night. Wild dogs, in contrast, do not come to the residential areas at all. They are dangerous and they attack villages several times every winter. They usually descend into residential areas when the snow falls. There are three or four heavy snows of well above 60cm every winter. When dog height snow falls, they come to the villages and often take some infants and children with them. Residence are inclined to stay home in heavy snows listen to the howling of the wild dogs gazing their streets. Centre dogs and domestic dogs are scared of the wild dogs.

Mamor is kind to animals. The morning after the first night of Brown in the compound he came and found Brown cold and hungry. Mamor brought Brown a blanket, and food from the street butcher, when Mamor was leaving Brown howl behind him and when he looked back Brown waggled her snout to the sky in what Mamor considered she prayed for him to God. This further attached Mamor to the bitch. Animals prayers are of great value in Islam. Mamor has a DVD on petting a dog produced in Britain, I believe, which is the only film he has and love to watch it and then tell stories of, what he dubs infidels, kindness to animals. Stories of Mamor’s fascination with dogs are famous. He urges the people of faith to compete in kindness toward animals.

Mamor has learned about the pharmaceutical waste dump. Many neighbourhood dogs go mad; getting shot by the soldiers of the nearby garrison. Mamor was afraid if set free Brown might become a mad dog with a doomed faith. There is a huge well just outside the garrison where mad dogs are damped after being shot by the soldiers, it is almost filled with crops of mad dogs, stinking from far away. A couple of people have been bitten in the neighbourhood by the mad dog that is why local residence have asked the local garrison to shoot them. Children from the neighbourhood have stories have about mad dog. ‘mad dogs are running fast. Do you know cheetah? They are almost as fast as cheetahs’ said seven years old Satar when his eyes were shining in excitement. a group of children took me to the well where mad dogs are ditched. ‘I hate mad dogs’ said Satar, throwing a rock down and starting to piss in the well.  'the mad dog vaccine costs $1000’ said Satar’s dad as giving Satar a whack at the back of the neck for being anywhere close to mad dogs. ‘How the hell do you think I can afford that’.

Mamor is feeding brown with his leftovers as well as bring bones from the butcher. A bucket is hanging from the wall on a rope from Mamor’s house into the compound. Mamor fills the bucket with water once a day for Brown to drink. Brown gives birth to six puppies on a Sunny Sunday. All the puppies are brown too. Mamor prepared a soft place made of hay with a roof to shelter them from snow and rain. The next day there was a surprise waiting for Mamor. Brown had given birth again, to another six puppies. They looked weaker and ill. The second six died the next day – rather the night- they were too weak and premature to survive the chilly night. The first six are several weeks old now. among them there is only one which is smaller than the rest and low on energy. Mamor has not yet set Brown free; he thinks the puppies need brown and he on his own can not take care of the puppies. Mamor recons the Puppies are too young to be on the street. This winter is tough. The municipality has also come hard after the dogs. Over six hundred centre dogs were killed by the municipality in Kabul. The surviving centre dogs have fled to the outskirts like Rahmatabad. There is a lot of chaos in the dogs’ kingdom. The city and wild strains of dogs have intruded in the dwelling of mountain dogs making it hard for Brown puppies to survive. Wild dogs are facing heavy snows and fewer preys; compelled to tumble down the cities.  Mamor believes that the puppies might fall a piece of rations for the large hungry packs. It was a few days ago that the garrison troopers had enough of wild dogs and set out on a shooting spree. After the shooting Mamor is even more reluctant to put puppies on the street, where they belong. Mamor is trying to find relatives and friends who would take the puppies; I am thinking of taking one too.