"Dogs and Indians not allowed" used to be written long before I was born. Not us, who have inhabited this country from the times of King Yudhisthir of Hastinapur. Arise, awake I say. See now that we InDogs have become the favourites in the promised land, America. We don't require a Green Card there like Indian humans. They love our disease-free sturdy build if fed well. Ask Pamela Anderson; she kn
ows. We are adaptable to every lifestyle unlike the foreign dogs that you love. Look at Delhi, Lucknow, Mumbai and Chennai where we are considered as intelligent as Phoren dogs; people there care for my poor brethren suffering on the streets; can Kolkata be far behind? My parents say they won't part with me for crores of what you people call Rupees. I'm not interested in crores of that as such things do not have any interesting smell. But I guess that's required to get things by buying, whatever that might mean, that I love to eat. See my pictures and know my story first hand--how I grew so proud. They say that dogs are bought, can't say I know what that means, for large sums of money. I hear now that people ask my father about how many Rupees he has bought me for. Again the mention of those odourless pieces of strange papers. "One crore", replies my father. I don't know why he has to lie as I remember very well, he had just picked me up from the street. My Mamma had stopped barking after being hit by a monster called car and my leg was broken. But Mamma didn't even get the time to teach me anything, not even how to bark. "Mamma, Mamma", I wailed. But she lay on the road asleep, all her blood pouring out through her ears. I don't know why nobody cared. She was the only one I knew until a man and his son came to pick me up after I wandered hungry for four days. He brought me home and let me sleep in a warm box. I slept, thinking of Mamma and crying for her. I don't remember very well; but when I woke up and saw that Mamma had changed a lot and had started walking on two legs only. She looked so much like the man who brought me home, but was different in many ways. Why can't all my brethren have such good Mammas I wonder. I now call that man my Papa who tells me that some day Indian Dogs will be loved by Indian humans; but foreigners must love us first.
