For the past few weeks, stray dogs roamed the streets of our neighbourhood late evenings. It’s something we’re used to at winters and not very concerning as the maximum number of a pack would be 4 and if barking loudly could be easily dispersed by my continuous clapping from the balcony.
But last Tuesday we had a different scenario occurring round 11 pm. The ruckus was much louder that I had to stand in the balcony to watch a pack of 8 to 10 dogs running ahead and pulling something between them.
My heart sank as I recognised it to be one of my big stray cats. It was too dark to distinguish which as I stood in the balcony clapping and shouting, trying to make them drop him on the ground.
Mom came in and started doing the same till the poor cat was dropped on the ground and the dogs continued their course, except for the leader who stood there for a few minutes. He was determined on taking his prey that lied helplessly splayed on the ground, while Mom kept clapping and shouting, before he finally gave up and followed his pack. I teared up watching the poor creature crawl on his forearms trying to reach the neighbour’s car to hide under.
Mom was still in doubt if it was one of our cats and kept insisting that it looked like a small puppy “maybe one of their own!”. I called the helper who ran out and confirmed that it was none but Shanabo, our 5 years old stray who’d always spent the night under the neighbour’s car and was trapped by the pack. I went down with the carrier and we both tried trapping him in to take him to the vet’s emergency.
Shanabo was in a pretty bad shape. He had a broken hip — hence the splayed legs, a bleeding mouth and was panting. He was also aggressive and kept hissing at us as we lied on our tummies trying to push him gently inside.
After what seemed like ages, we managed to trap and rush him to the vet. He was in shock and put on a pain killer drip. As Mom and I got back home, we found our helper holding a long garden bean pole — and in effect looking like Don Quixote- fearing that the dogs might return and attack the other strays.
Sleep denied us all that night as we haven’t experienced such a raid for almost a decade. The next day I went to visit Shanabo and he wasn’t doing good. Other than his broken hip, his lower area was mauled hard affecting his urinary functions and his blood readings weren’t promising.
I decided that It was time to put Kitzania on high alert: Code Red. I bought a few bottles of mouth wash and poured it around the house parameter and our cars to keep the stray dogs away. I also started moving the evening meal left overs to the back of the house to eliminate any food scent that might attract them. Rocky was also locked in early evening as he had the habit of visiting his friend the barber nearby after supper.
On Friday evening I got the sad news of Shanabo’s demise. The trauma was too much for him to handle. I’d like to thank Dr Lucy and Dr Mohammed from Al Qurum Vetrinary Clinic who helped him during his short stay there. It was a hard experience to witness and go through yet as all pet owners and rescuers know: heartbreak comes naturally with the territory.
Rasha al Raisi is a certified skills trainer and the author of: The World According to Bahja. rashabooks@yahoo.com
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