The life of a street dog is miserable. In our street there is one such dog. It is very dirty. Its body is covered all over with wounds. They are sometimes bleeding. It is kicked and beaten wherever it goes. It wanders from house to house to get some crumbs of food. It gets very little to eat. It starves. It is lean and thin. It barks at the passersby. Sometimes it gets a good thrashing at their hands.
It does not get the pat and the love that pet dogs get. It is neglected and uncared for. At night it is without a shelter. It sleeps wherever it finds a place to lie. Even in winter it has to sleep in the open. In the hot days of summer, it can be seen lying in a gutter.
It lives on bones that lie scattered near a butcher’s shop or other dirty things lying in bazars and streets. It dare not move out of its own street. When it goes to other streets, its fellow-dogs drive it away.
In cities, stray dogs are killed because they are a great nuisance. They spread diseases. Sometimes they turn mad and bite people. Who can love such miserable creatures? In short, a street dog is hated by one and all. It is unwanted. It is good for-nothing. It is an untouchable. It is contemptible.