Kaede was walking to school this week when she heard a bang. A moment later, a whimpering dog ran out from between two nearby buildings, slipped on the ice, and collapsed. Blood filled his mouth and flowed from a fresh bullet wound. Soon thereafter, I received a call from my very upset wife. I did my best to console her, but what can you really say in that sort of situation? On her way home a few hours later, the corpse was still there, as well as those of other dogs. I'm sure Kaede would not classify this as one of her better days in Peace Corps.
The dog shootings were among the first things veteran volunteers told us about when we arrived in Mongolia nineteen months ago. Once a year, the police walk around town and shoot all the stray dogs they find. In smaller communities with no real police force, teachers and other employees of the state are fined a nominal amount if they do not kill a dog, although I should add that I've only heard this latter anecdote secondhand. Either way, in a poor country where spaying and neutering are virtually unheard of and often, ironically, viewed as cruel, this is how you control the dog population.
And there's no doubt that the dog population needs controlling. Strays are everywhere in this country, and while most would not harm a human, rabies is also a problem. When they start roaming in packs, even the heartiest of volunteers can't help but get a little nervous. Most Mongolians are downright terrified of dogs, and considering how many stories I've heard of people, natives and foreigners alike, getting bitten, it's not surprising.
Still, it's easy to judge Mongolia for this, and it got even easier this week. What could be more cruel than shooting an innocent dog in broad daylight? Often with children or the elderly right there? Nonetheless, I never stay long in my ivory tower before I recall that at least as many pets are killed every day in America. A lot more, actually: one every eight seconds according to the Humane Society's website. We just have the luxury of shelters and needles so that this can be done behind closed doors in a manner we deem humane. I wonder, if it got to a point where our communities couldn't afford these sorts of services anymore, how long we'd let strays roam our streets before we started tolerating, or even calling for, their destruction, public or otherwise.
And of course, Mongolians don't relish these dog-killing days. Most find it very disturbing, but few would call it unnecessary. They wish it were carried out better, sure, but in general, these people are much more comfortable facing death than we are. Considering nearly half of the population still herds, most Mongolians begin witnessing animal slaughter from a young age. In a country where vegetables are still a bit of a novelty, eating meat is all but compulsory, and Mongolians have come to terms with that, in spite of the bloodshed it requires. Most of these people cannot afford to ignore this reality, and perhaps that's not such a bad thing.
In America, we eat meat and exterminate strays, but we never have to face it. We get clean cities with empty streets and restaurants that sell juicy hamburgers, and we never even have to think about what our lifestyle requires. Of course, nowadays many Americans are turning their attention to just that, and some of our practices are improving as a result, but I think we could learn a lot from Mongolia. Perhaps Michael Pollan should take a vacation here.
On a brighter subject, it was Baagii's birthday recently! Happy birthday Baagii! Well, it wasn't technically his birthday (that's probably sometime in the late summer), but it was a year from the day the little guy followed us into our apartment. For his special day, he got some extra delicious food (see below), a new toy, and continued status as one of the luckiest pets around, whether in Mongolia, the states, or anywhere else in this dog-fearing world.
The dog shootings were among the first things veteran volunteers told us about when we arrived in Mongolia nineteen months ago. Once a year, the police walk around town and shoot all the stray dogs they find. In smaller communities with no real police force, teachers and other employees of the state are fined a nominal amount if they do not kill a dog, although I should add that I've only heard this latter anecdote secondhand. Either way, in a poor country where spaying and neutering are virtually unheard of and often, ironically, viewed as cruel, this is how you control the dog population.
And there's no doubt that the dog population needs controlling. Strays are everywhere in this country, and while most would not harm a human, rabies is also a problem. When they start roaming in packs, even the heartiest of volunteers can't help but get a little nervous. Most Mongolians are downright terrified of dogs, and considering how many stories I've heard of people, natives and foreigners alike, getting bitten, it's not surprising.
Still, it's easy to judge Mongolia for this, and it got even easier this week. What could be more cruel than shooting an innocent dog in broad daylight? Often with children or the elderly right there? Nonetheless, I never stay long in my ivory tower before I recall that at least as many pets are killed every day in America. A lot more, actually: one every eight seconds according to the Humane Society's website. We just have the luxury of shelters and needles so that this can be done behind closed doors in a manner we deem humane. I wonder, if it got to a point where our communities couldn't afford these sorts of services anymore, how long we'd let strays roam our streets before we started tolerating, or even calling for, their destruction, public or otherwise.
And of course, Mongolians don't relish these dog-killing days. Most find it very disturbing, but few would call it unnecessary. They wish it were carried out better, sure, but in general, these people are much more comfortable facing death than we are. Considering nearly half of the population still herds, most Mongolians begin witnessing animal slaughter from a young age. In a country where vegetables are still a bit of a novelty, eating meat is all but compulsory, and Mongolians have come to terms with that, in spite of the bloodshed it requires. Most of these people cannot afford to ignore this reality, and perhaps that's not such a bad thing.
In America, we eat meat and exterminate strays, but we never have to face it. We get clean cities with empty streets and restaurants that sell juicy hamburgers, and we never even have to think about what our lifestyle requires. Of course, nowadays many Americans are turning their attention to just that, and some of our practices are improving as a result, but I think we could learn a lot from Mongolia. Perhaps Michael Pollan should take a vacation here.
On a brighter subject, it was Baagii's birthday recently! Happy birthday Baagii! Well, it wasn't technically his birthday (that's probably sometime in the late summer), but it was a year from the day the little guy followed us into our apartment. For his special day, he got some extra delicious food (see below), a new toy, and continued status as one of the luckiest pets around, whether in Mongolia, the states, or anywhere else in this dog-fearing world.
