I am just a stray dog. A creature you feed sometimes, chase often, and mostly ignore. I never thought my life mattered much – until one day I heard the Supreme Court and the government barking louder than even we dogs ever could, all for us. Suddenly, my existence became a national concern.
Don’t misunderstand me – I know we, stray dogs, cause trouble. Some of us bite, some carry diseases, and yes, humans fear us. But to my surprise, when I heard that the Supreme Court had ordered the government and local bodies to capture us, cage us, and push us into shelters. Such seriousness, such urgency – almost as if dogs had become the greatest danger to society.
On 11th August, 2025, a two-judge bench had expressed concern over the rising risk of dog bites leading to rabies in Delhi and its suburbs. The two-judge bench has directed that the stray dogs shall be captured, sterilised, dewormed, and immunised, but “ they shall in no circumstance be released back onto the streets .” The urgency was startling, as if we were the greatest threat to India’s safety.
But on the very same day, a 19-year-old girl named Manisha Bhiwani, a playschool teacher, went missing. The next day, an FIR was filed. The police personnel told her father that “ she must have eloped and she will come back in two days “. On 13th August , 2025 , her body was found , brutally murdered . The government and the police claim it must be a and the police claim it must be suicide, but near every tea stall, when I listen to my ears can understand the human language claiming that his daughters will never commit suicide. Surprisingly, there were no urgent orders from the court, and the voice of the government grew suddenly faint.
Thinking about poor Manisha, I remember many such Manishas from the past. Even as a dog, I feel for the 31-year-old female postgraduate trainee doctor at R.G. Kar Medical College and Hospital in Kolkata, who was raped and murdered in a college building. The college tried its best to protect the culprit. Somewhere, the entire government and college were together defending the culprit. There were no urgent orders, no strict punishments, no thunderous declarations, just silence. A silence so deep, even we dogs could hear it.
Tell me, how strange are you humans? For us dogs, barking is instinct. We bark because that is what dogs do. But when humans bark – in courtrooms, in government offices – shouldn’t it be for justice? Shouldn’t it be for the safety of your daughters? Instead, the court barks at us strays while whispering about the beasts who walk on two legs. Beasts disguised as humans, they prey on the innocent, who ruin lives, who should have been locked in cages long before us. Those beasts, when they are caged, are easily released, and in that matter, the supreme court has nothing to say but for us, stray dogs, the court has specifically mentioned – “ they shall in no circumstances be released back onto the streets “. You humans call us dangerous animals. But statistics tell a darker story. Human predators harm far more humans than dogs ever could. And unlike rabid dogs, these beasts are not caged – they are allowed to walk free, sometimes for years, until the slow machinery of justice decides to stir.
I still remember the day of 2012, the Nirbhaya case in Delhi. I was younger then, scratching fleas under a broken streetlight, when I heard voices crying out on TV screens from tea stalls. A young woman, just 23 years old, gang – raped and tortured on a bus. The outrage shook your nation. People marched, candles burned, promises were made. Yet years later, nothing much has been damaged. New names have been added to the list – Suryaneli rape case, Kolkata rape case, and not just rape, many other violent crimes directed toward women, which are not even reported. Each time I hear the same cries, the same promises, and the same silence afterwards.
In contrast, whenever a stray dog attack occurs, immediate orders fly from courts and municipalities- Capture them! Kill them! Sterilise them! As if we dogs were the greatest threat to human safety. You see, we dogs live by instinct. We fight for food, we guard our territory, we bark at strangers. That is our nature. But you humans claim to live by reason, by morality, by laws? If so, then why is your moral compass so selective? Why is there more urgency in controlling barking dogs than in silencing the monsters who destroy women’s lives?
I have walked past police stations where complaints are dismissed with a shrug. I have slept outside shelters where women cried inside, unheard. I have seen candles flicker in protests, only to die in the wind of political apathy. And I wonder if even I, a stray dog, can sense injustice, how can humans remain blind to it?
Of course, I am not saying let strays run free unchecked. A dog bite can scare a child for life, and rabies is no small matter. But when you weigh risks, remember this: rabies kills 20,000 people a year in India. While, as per the NCRB reported over 31,000 rape cases were reported in 2021 alone. That means on average, 86 women are raped every single day in India. And these are only the cases reported – many more never make it to the police files.
Instead of chaining us strays, should your courts not be caging the beasts who walk on two legs? Beasts disguised as humans, who ruin lives and tear apart families. We dogs are captured and caged but human predators, but when caught, are too easily released. Bail, loopholes, delays – all gifts of your legal system. And in such cases, the Supreme Court has no urgent declarations. The creator gave humans the gift of reason. But perhaps you have lost it, because you can no longer differentiate who truly deserves to walk free on the streets, and who should be locked away forever. So tonight, as I curl up on a cold pavement, tail wrapped around my nose, I cannot help but think perhaps, just perhaps, dogs are better than humans.