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Writer's pictureTalha

Gregor, My Best Friend

“You have just dined, and however scrupulously, the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity.”

(Though you have dined carefully, with the slaughterhouse hidden far away at a distance of miles, you are still involved in the suffering and pain of the animals who were killed to be your meal.)


I awoke to find something heavy lying on my blanket, the sound of its breathing greeting me

a good morning. Gregor had been my friend for the past three years and never once was this morning ritual not repeated. He reached out to lick my face, his tail wagging with joy. He still walked with a limp, a daily reminder of that fateful day when we first met.

I had been walking to work when I chanced upon a group of kids playing on the street. There seemed to be some sort of commotion. On looking closer, I realized in horror, that they were pelting a poor dog with stones!

I had seen that dog several times on the same path, and it always seemed to be quite patient. Not to mention the general truth about small children being notorious to animals for fun. I decided to intervene, immediately. “Hey! What are you kids doing? Stop that at once or I will tell your parents,” I yelled.

This was enough to send them running away. I approached the dog, gingerly, making sure not to aggravate it. One of its limbs was twisted at an unnatural angle. Sensing its pain, I decided to call the nearby animal shelter for help.

It was some time before any help could arrive. I decided to stay there in case the children

returned. Finally, some people from the shelter arrived, ministered the dog’s wounds, and

took it to the shelter. I was getting very late for work, so I decided to leave the dog to their

care, and decided to go to the shelter in the evening. The whole day went by with me thinking about what I had witnessed that day. I had never been much of an animal lover. But what I saw that morning had left a big impact. Seeing such young children being so cruel to a living being was beyond disturbing. Where does that insensitivity come from?

I realized that somehow, amidst all that we are taught as children, we tend to forget how to be good human beings. We might respect humans, but should we not also respect the other animals we share this planet with? The dog’s wounded leg was all that occupied my mind.



By the time the sun was setting, I was already on the doorstep of the shelter. I was informed

that a vet had been called to treat the broken limb and that it would be some time before

anyone would be able to take it in. on being asked if I wanted to adopt it, I instantly answered in the affirmative. I had reached the conclusion while leaving my office and was determined to provide the dog with a better life. I had even decided on a name.


It has been three years since that day, and Gregor has proved to be the best pet one could

hope for.

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