Donkey the dog

I lived in Jamshedpur in our company quarters in the early 1960s. One of my friends was my neighbour Singh. He was one of the few who had two children, both lively boys, and a pet dog. The dog was a favourite playmate of his boys. Singh told me once that the dog had simply walked into his house, stayed put, and was given food, a place to sleep, etc. by the kind-hearted Singhs and their two boys. The dog was named Donkey by the family! Strange name for a dog!

One fine morning I heard a big commotion, and soon I saw the dog being chained and shoved into the boot of their car, and the Singhs were ready to drive away. I was curious. On seeing me, my good neighbour told me that he was taking the dog away. I was shocked when he said he would abandon Donkey near Ranchi, which was about 125–130 km away from Jamshedpur. “It is a nuisance now,” he complained. 

I felt terrible for the dog and sorry for Singh. I was quite sure he would regret his actions and start missing Donkey very soon. Sure enough, the next couple of days we could see Singh wandering about the place with a long face. He refused to respond to our usual greetings or even acknowledge our presence. On the fourth day, at noon, we heard the barking of a dog and went out only to see the Singhs joyfully playing with Donkey! He was back. The dog had obviously walked 130 km back home!
The legendary homing instinct of animals was in full play! Hurrah for Donkey the dog.

The pet-master relationship is as endearing as it is intriguing. My brother-in-law’s pet dog never ceases to surprise me. The relative, a surgeon in Guntur, Andhra Pradesh, worked in a hospital 8 km away from his house. Though he left home at the same time every day, at 8 am, his time of return was uncertain. The dog, however, used to drop everything, run to the main gate, and start wagging its tail when its master was expected. Out of curiosity, I requested that my relative note the exact time he started the car to begin his return journey, and lo! That was the time the dog ran to the gate, ready to welcome its master half an hour later. It’s a wonder to this day!