Are community dogs made for gated communities? A tale with O Henry-ish twist in the tail seems to offer an answer

The first family to move into Groovy Woodz is a family of dogs. That is hardly a scurrilous statement, just a four-pawed fact. And it is also something Lata Prakash likes to woof about. Lata is a resident of this villa-based gated community in Kazhipattur, Old Mahabalipuram Road. Even more pertinently, an inveterate dog lover. In bullet points, she introduces the seven community dogs on the premises with the fastidiousness genealogists might reserve for a treatise on royal lineages. The sketch details the idiosyncrasies of the seven in a tone best described as doting.

Kasthuri Prasad, a committee member of Groovy Woodz Owners’ Association, brings a contrasting perspective to the picture, dissecting the phenomenon of canine families commingling with human families within gated communities with the freezing-cold, unforgiving knife of hard-nosed logic. Being pragmatic and dispassionate about the issue allows her to bring to the powwow observations that underline the uncomfortable adjustments that ought to be nade to achieve this harmony.

Kasthuri Prasad with her pet dog RJ. Photo: Special Arrangement 

Let us hear Kasthuri out at the end. Before that, a potted history of the canines at Groovy Woodz as presented by their enthusiastic spokesperson, Lata.

At nine, Tiger — brindled, and hence the name — is the oldest of them all. He has lived through the C-word and survived it. Diminished in body but not spirit, the cancer survivor still has the imposing air of an ageing tribal chief. He forms an inseparable pack with Black Maama — who balances out the gender power dynamics with her majestic bearing —and Howie, who incidentally was born to the two of them.

When the villas were under construction, the workers smuggled Tiger and Black Maama into the project as pups.

When the workers’ term of contract came to an end, the four-legged duo ensconced themselves in the affections of dog lovers in the community.

Lata notes that the band of animal lovers would not hesitate to loosen their purse strings for these dogs’ care. “A few residents who are animal lovers take care of these seven dogs’ food and medical needs. Tiger recently underwent an operation for the removal of a tumour.”

She mentions Srinivasan Thiagarajan, a committee member, for how he epitomises this concern — “he unfailingly feeds them at night, and attends to their medical health. He has seen these dogs right from the time they were puppies to what they are now. He is the first person who initiated the process of caring for these community dogs, and we are following his example.”

The 2015 floods washed more paws into the community. Harry came as a puppy, having been rescued from the surging waters. Lata says that in the years that followed, she enriched the community further by bringing her puppies — Brownie, Blackie and Whitey — into it.

Lata notes that Tiger, Black Maama and Howie are dubbed “The Three Musketeers” for sticking together, and even coalescing into a fighting unit when the situation demands it, especially when a snake slithers into view. The Three Musketeers are known to keep at bay snakes, notably cobras. Besides, the trio catch large bandicoots that rest on car tyres and chew on car wires. The pack led by Harry have their ears perked up at the scent of strangers and alert the residents,

Harry and her tribe make a pack of four that asserts its territorial rights over an entire street. The trio have their own turf — another street all to themselves.

Stray population frozen

Lata remarks that with all the dogs undergoing animal birth control procedures, their population stands frozen at seven — some were vaccinated and sterilised by the Blue Cross and the others at private veterinary clinics.

Kasthuri recalls that even before her family settled down in the villa they had bought at Groovy Woodz, they had to adjust to the idea of sharing the address with a family of canines: Two packs of them. And the effort was hardly easy.

“My villa was unoccupied for a while before we started living in it. And the dogs were using my villa and car park as a place for them to relieve themselves. When they found a place that nobody was using, and was dusty and run over with junk, they were impelled to use it for this purpose. I used to come over the weekend — this was nearly two-and-a-half years ago — to see how things were, and what I would actually get to see would not be pleasant to the eye,” recalls Kasthuri.

She would get hopping mad, but would put up with this unfortunate weekend routine, philosophising that this too would pass.

Harry and Brownie, community dogs at Groovy Woodz. Photo: Special Arrangement

“We thought we would be able to manage it when we moved in,” reveals Kasthuri. They could not have been more mistaken.

“Even after we moved in, the dogs would invite themselves to our home and relieve themselves.”

All seven of them?

“No, particularly three of them.” That is The Three Musketeers: Tiger, Black Maama and Howie.

“They would try to use this space and we would shoo them away. As we would often be unable to spot them in time, the practice continued. This was the first phase where I termed them a nuisance, as I would have to clean up the place.” To rub salt into the injury, the trio would “literally chase me away when I would enter their street during my morning walk. Each of the two packs has its street. The pack — with Tiger, Black Mamma and Howie — were a tad more territorial and clearly the dadagiris of this place, and they would treat me as a stranger. Till I left the street, they would be barking; and once I left, they would settle into a self-satisfied silence.”

That sure was a galling cut, unkind and ungrateful.

My reaction to all of these things was: ‘These are street dogs — why are they inside the community? I started posting my views on the community’s WhatsApp forums, asking why should we put up with them. Why not chase them away? ‘My neighbour also faced the same challenges, and we would ask why would we need them here anyway. Why not shift them to a shelter? Others in the community would tell me that it was illegal to move them out. As community dogs, this place belonged as much to them as it did to us. One of the neighbours related how the dogs tore apart the seat and tyres in their new scooter parked outside — but chose to ignore the slight. It slowly dawned on me that this place was theirs too — in fact more theirs than ours, as these dogs had arrived before all of us did — and we had to learn to live with them. Deep down, it was more resignation to my lot than an appreciation of a fact. I was like: let them stick to their streets, and I would to mine.”The pandemic augured in new thinking. It provided Kasthuri with enough space for her to extend her family with the addition of a pet dog. The last time she had a pet dog was well over two decades ago.

“I adopted an Indian mongrel, and after RJ (named after her pet dog from 20 years ago) grew up a little, he would try to make them feel unwelcome around this place. He was displaying his territorial instinct. Of course, the three would still come and try to intimidate him — RJ however would manage to hold his own. Now, they do not show up.. On rare occasions when they do, RJ, aged one and a half now, is successful in chasing the trio away.”

That is hardly the end of the tale: There is an unlikely twist in the tail.

“Now, incredible though it may sound, I have developed a friendship with the trio — Tiger, Black Maama and Howie — and it a feeling that they have spontaneously reciprocated. When I go around their street, I pat them, and they wag their tails and come to me excitedly. They do not bark at me anymore.” Kasthuri has progressed to a level of understanding that prompts her to discuss how animal lovers can work together to make sure these seven community dogs are well-fed and cared for. Lata observes that RJ has much do with Kasthuri’s change of heart about the community dogs.

A heart-warming story of reconciliation indeed: Or, is there a better way to describe this?