It’s that time of year again when dogs are gods in Catmandu, and as we involuntarily get the urge to raise our hind-legs when passing a telephone pole, we are reminded that it is time for another annual column on the city’s canines.
Kukur Tihar is also the rutting period for our furry friends. All along the red-light districts these days we see strays from all walks of life taking part in x-rated doggie style xtracurricular activities in broad daylight hours. And at night the yelping and yowling means ‘tis the season to be jolly for our four-legged friends, who are working hard to faithfully implement the commandment from Genesis 9:7 (King James Version) : ‘And you, be ye fruitful; populate the Earth abundantly, and multiply therein.’
As the mutts gearing up for Kukur Puja, which this year falls on 3 November, the dogs are strutting about as if they already know they are divine for a day. Thank goodness for that, imagine if they were gods every day of the year.
Every year this is what gets the Ass’ goat: how come Fido is deemed worthy of worship, and not us donkeys? Crows are divine, but not vultures? Who made these rules? And how come it only rains cats and dogs, but not gnus and donkeys? I hereby, henceforth and hereinafter, propose a more inclusive Tihar under the new inclusive federal Constitution whereby the canine elite doesn’t monopolise the right to be man’s best friend forever. This year let us also worship pangolins.