Poornima's personal diary of 1999. ARF was 5 days old

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Re: My personal diary of 1999. ARF was 5 days old. Not pubMy personal diary of

1999. Animal Rights Fund was 5 days old. I had written this but this was not

published anywhere. I was told it is too gory and not something that would

interest readers of Bangalore. So it remained buried. It is pretty much as it

was written then.

Poornima Harish

---------------

 

Dear Purnima:

 

 

This should have been published. Similar accounts by Chinny Krishna,

Christine Townend, and Pradeep Kumar Nath ended dog electrocution in Chennai

(1996) and Visakhapatnam (1998), but yours is by far the most vividly written.

 

 

I recommend sending it to AAPN. Very few places still electrocute dogs,

but it is done in Pakistan and the Philippines, and your account may be useful

to the activists there.

 

 

Incidentally, the electrocution devices formerly used in Bangalore,

Hyderabad, Delhi, and Chennai, and still used in Karachi, were originally

made in the late 19th century for use by the RSPCA in Britain. They were

retired from use in the mid-1920s, having been recognized as inhumane, but

were pulled out of storage and sent to India in response to rabies outbreaks in

the early 1930s.

 

 

Cheers,

Merritt Clifton

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This is my eye-witness account of electrocution of street dogs in 1999

 

 

 

 

 

Written on April 9 & 10, 1999

 

 

 

I and two of my animal friends visit the dog pound at Ejipura. We get to see the

bodies of the dogs which had been killed by electrocution in the morning.

Besides blood, the chamber was reeking of filth but the sight was not

intolerable. I said to myself, " OK, I will be able to witness the electrocution

also " . Some of the dogs had defecated. The room itself looks medieval, and

coming to think of it, it is appropriate even in 1999 in the Silicon Valley of

India because as far as street dogs are concerned our attitude belongs to that

era. While looking around we chanced upon the dog which died last, the wire was

still in its neck and there was a deep, exposed cut. After spending a little

more time, we came out.

 

 

 

When we were talking we heard the Bangalore Mahanagara Palike (BMP) van coming.

It was around 12.30 p.m. We went to the scene. BMP had brought an assortment of

dogs -- small young pups as well as adult dogs. The first question that came to

my mind was how did the BMP pick up such cute pups in the first place. But since

we were there for witnessing the events, we did not raise any questions. We

wanted to see the way things work normally so we just watched without

questioning.

 

 

 

The unloading of dogs began with the metallic loop being put around the dogs'

neck and they being pulled and dragged till the kennels. One attendant would

open the kennel door and the dog catcher would fling the dog inside. The

procedure is the same for all the dogs. All the dogs resist being tied like that

and invariably all have to be dragged, none of them walk the way to the kennel.

Only one or two of the dogs (who seem resigned to their fate) quietly get down

with minimal resistance. The pups are lifted by their hind limbs and flung

inside. One pup was so terrified that he defecated in the upside down position.

 

 

 

In the kennel we noticed one white dog which was blind in one eye.

 

 

 

The sight of dead dogs on April 9 was not preparation enough for what awaited us

the following day. We arrived at 9.30 a.m. on April 10, 1999 to witness the

electrocution of dogs. When the chamber opened and the deathly work began, we

noticed a pile of dead dogs. A lot of killings had already taken place before we

arrived. The person who does the electrocution (the " exterminator " as I would

come to think of him) brought one brown dog and tied him inside the chamber. The

dog was so submissive with fright that he just looked at the bodies on one side

and looked at us once and then at the blood on the floor of the chamber. Since

it was the first such experience for us, we took our own sweet time to take

positions, forgetting the fact that the dog must have died a thousand deaths in

that time.

 

 

 

The " exterminator " instructed us not to get close to the electric chamber, " the

current will pull you in " , he said. Needless to say, our " model " dog did not

appreciate this and was looking as if to say, " why don't you finish me fast " .

Then when we were all settled, the " exterminator " switched the power on and the

sight was one straight from a horror movie.

 

 

 

I used to think that electrocution was a " clean " business (just a little more

shock than what we feel when we touch a switch with a wet hand). It is nowhere

near that. It is a business of blood and gore, smoke and fume.

 

 

 

The first dog was electrocuted and the wire kept burning the flesh of the neck

and cutting it till the current was relaxed after which the dog slumped on the

floor. Then blood started trickling down.

 

 

 

So it was with the second dog also. None of my " preparation " of the previous day

was enough for the actual event.

 

 

 

The stench of burning flesh, the fumes and faecal matter was overpowering. I

felt nauseated. It was when I took out my still camera for a photograph and the

vision was blurred that I realised I had been crying. Tears had been flowing

automatically.

 

 

 

The third dog which was dragged in was all determination till the very end.

 

 

 

He had been biting the wire cord and was bleeding from the mouth. Again it was

crackling and fumes. I was reminded of electric sparklers with accompanying

fumes which we light during Diwali. I thought " Yes this is also Diwali " --

though of a macabre kind -- a festival of death which is celebrated every

morning between 9.00 and 10.30 in the dog pound.

 

 

 

The death count continues.

 

 

 

One black dog falls to the chamber floor and sparks and fumes emanate from the

mouth. His eyes, which had been stunned closed, open gradually, staring into the

camera, as if asking " did you get a good shot? "

 

 

 

Next, one skinny puppy is brought in. He passes urine in the death chamber, out

of sheer fright.

 

 

 

His angelic face is difficult to forget. He goes up in smoke. His crime --

being born into the wrong species. A greeting card I had seen comes to my mind

-- " Try leading a dog's life " . I think there should be another category of cards

with the message - " Try dying a dog's death " .

 

 

 

Some experiences are rattling. Some dogs move after death, maybe as a muscular

reaction.

 

 

 

This deathly experience is too much for me. The smell and sights too disgusting.

I come outside and sit down on the stairs. I watch the death row inmates go in

one by one, never to come out on four paws.

 

 

 

I see two puppies go in, one of them wagging its tail in ignorance. Tiny ones

are killed in twos and threes.

 

 

 

The final death scenes I miss are all captured by my friend on camera.

 

 

 

The two puppies which are electrocuted together are terrible to watch. The

" wagger " falls down towards the side of the camera, its neck sizzling in flames

and sparkles.

 

 

 

Another couple of puppies, so innocent and cute, come in. They are so small that

the " exterminator " carries them in his hands and puts them in the death chamber.

They become statistics, but such young ones are very important for bounty

corporation dog catchers. The catchers count money for the dog counts.

 

 

 

Then come a trio of pups. They are brought to the chamber one after another. One

is tied inside and then the man goes out to get another one. The ones inside are

bewildered, wondering what awaits them.

 

 

 

How can we explain to the pups that they are dying because we humans don't know

how to coexist peacefully with other inhabitants of this planet. We consider

them too many because WE are too many.

 

 

 

But in all this I feel no ill-will towards the " exterminator " . If he did not do

it, somebody else would have done it.

 

 

 

Regards

 

Poornima Harish

 

Animal Rights Fund

Cell: + 91 98801 94757

Visit www.arfindia.org