It had been a perfectly nice Raksha Bandhan day, with much sibling love being spread around the world via every possible mode of communication. I tied a Rakhi on my little Beagle, as I do every year; we had relatives and friends dropping in with delicious mithai and it was generally a day of celebration of family ties.

For our dear friends who live two houses down though, the good cheer was about to be brought to a rude, abrupt halt. As the news of a fire in their house made its way down the rather short grapevine between our homes, I immediately ran across to see if everyone was okay and if there was any way to help.

Typically, there was already a crowd that had gathered outside the house. I quickly found the lady of the house and asked if they were all safe.

“The dogs are there”, she said to me. Gosh, I had quite forgotten about the dogs, since I’d only met them a couple of times. They were safe on the terrace, she told me, describing how she had tried to bring them down, but they refused. The old dog, with a hip problem, wouldn’t come down the stairs from the fourth floor anyway, since she was accustomed to using the lift. The lady had tried and tried and then had finally managed to convince the dogs to go up to the terrace where they are used to playing. The tiniest of them all, she had scooped up in her arms and brought out of the building, when after several minutes, a family member had managed to cajole her in to evacuating the premises.

Normally, I would have panicked at the thought of dogs on the roof of a building on fire, but A. the fire itself seemed well under control and not even visible from the outside, and B. I knew these people to be big-time and long-time animal lovers, who would definitely have ensured their pets’ safety.

The incident, although far less dramatic, brought back disturbing memories which have yet to turn foggy, of a fire that had occurred on the floor above ours in the house we used to live in. To be honest, calling it a fire is a gross understatement. What began as a gas leak in the upstairs kitchen, causing a fire, then spread to the air conditioner cables of three 2-tonne  ACs which exploded all together. The noise was deafening and the explosion sent a shower of glass just past our balcony, set off car alarms and destroyed the upstairs apartment entirely. Fortunately, the poor inhabitants escaped with injuries they have since recovered from.

Down at our place, I had just poured a glass of wine for a visiting fellow-journalist, whom I had been helping and who I was meeting for the first time, on his way to the airport. I had his large backpack shoved in to my room, so that my inquisitive, little Beagle, wouldn’t decide to have a pee on it. We had barely been sitting five minutes when the explosion occurred. No one immediately comprehended what had happened, since there was no visible fire. The cook’s wife opened the door to the stairway to try and see what had happened. Big mistake. Right behind her was my desi dog, Lily, who is absolutely terrified of loud noises. In fact, she’s a basket case not only when it comes to Diwali, but also when a door bangs loudly, a clogged motorcycle pipe makes a loud report or even when the lights go out and the UPS beeps. So, given that the noise of the explosion was enough to scare the living daylights out of anybody, it was not surprising that Lily took off, with the cook running behind her and me behind him, entirely forgetting the poor, bewildered journalist in my living room. As I went around desperately asking people if they’d seen my dog, he suddenly appeared behind me and  joined the search. My parents meanwhile, called me saying we needed to evacuate the building because it seemed there had been a fire on the floor above. I temporarily abandoned the search to go home and gather my other three dogs. Fortunately, they cooperated and I quickly loaded them in to the car. The journalist, who had been standing quietly outside, then timidly reminded me that his bag and passport were inside. Poor guy! We made a dash in to the house, retrieved the bag and ran out. When he asked if I could call him a cab, I thought I might beat him! Luckily, the cook had by then, caught up with Lily and was waiting for us to come and pick them up, so I decided to call the cab and get the poor guy out of the way.

With Lily now safely back with us, my father parked the car around the corner from the building and returned to see what was going on. Away from the noise and the fire engine and the crowd, I sat in the car with my dogs for nearly an hour, reassuring them that it would all be okay. It was a night I would rather forget.

 

Having experienced that traumatic event, I could well empathise with our friends now, waiting for permission to get back in to their building and to their dogs.

As I lay in bed that night, imagining what our friends and their dogs must be going through, I couldn’t help but wonder- in a city like New Delhi where such situations are not uncommon, when it comes to our own safety and more so, that of our pets, how prepared are we to handle a crisis?

Google had some useful links to offer:

http://www.akc.org/learn/dog-health/evacuation-caring-dog-fire-natural-disaster/

http://www.humanesociety.org/issues/animal_rescue/tips/pets-disaster.html

However, I think any disaster plan needs to take in to account your particular circumstances. Is your pet one to stall or run? Can you carry your pet? Where would your pet be safest? These are questions that we must keep in mind while devising a plan for an emergency situation. I also came up with a few very basic things which could apply to anyone:

1. Keep your pet’s collar and leash close by or near the exit so you don’t risk them running away or towards harm.
2. Avoid leaving your pet alone in a closed house. If you must, ask someone to keep an eye on them.
3. Avoid leaving your pet alone in a closed room, with or without air conditioning. Even if the air conditioner is on, it’s best to leave the room door ajar so they can get out if they are uncomfortable.
4. Have your vet’s emergency number handy at all times.
5. Once the immediate crisis is over, remember to provide water to your pet.

Most importantly, I think, we need to stay with our pets during a crisis because for them, familiarity is probably the greatest reassurance of all. Unfortunately, we live in a country where emergency services are not entirely efficient and the lives of animals are not a high priority. That is why it is incumbent on us to look out for the safety of our pets. Please, take a few minutes to put together a contingency plan to keep you and your pets safe. Staying safe and staying together. Isn’t that really all that matters?