Love these posts from Anne. Think I’ll reblog some until I can type faster than this one fingered method.
They come in various colors, white, a ginger brown, black, and mixtures of the three. A few have long coats and all have pointed snouts. And they are not pets, or so we thought. The dogs live in the street scrounging in the sweeping piles and jumping with strong legs to scale a low fence for a morsel. They are “hunters and maybe gatherers,” just trying to survive. Their ribs show prominently through their skin and they are caked with mud. The Indians ignore the dogs except if there is a fight between the males for territorial rights. Then they yell and wave their hands.
The picture shows Ginger and Burnt Marshmallow with one of the puppies in front of our hostel. They live and control a pack of several females and various puppies in our lane. They rarely venture out into the busy street at the end of our road, but they”work” every morning trotting, one on each…
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Angie's Place 