If public health authorities wish to tackle these zoonotic risks effectively, they must address both the human need for companionship and the structural barriers to affordable care.
By: Sidra Shaikh
Whether in a quiet corner of Europe or the crowded streets of South Asia, dog lovers transcend rural and urban divides. Dogs are far more than animals; they offer a profound sense of companionship, protection, and security. However, how they are perceived, owned, and cared for reflects deep socio-economic divisions often dictated by breed and status.
For the privileged, a pet dog is a luxury. For others, a dog is a steadfast companion in times of solitude—and a cost-free guard.
During my fieldwork in Shamo Patel village, I met Ratan, a woman who adopted a stray dog in 2019 after learning she could not conceive. Worn down by constant taunts from her in-laws, her marriage dissolved in its ninth year when her husband abandoned her. Today, she lives with her mother and younger brother.
Amid the grief of abandonment, Ratan found solace in an unexpected place. One morning, while collecting animal waste from a street corner to make dung cakes, she came across a stray puppy. Recognizing a shared sense of isolation, she brought it home. Before long, her family became deeply attached to the dog, with her brother bringing home meat scraps from the local butcher to feed it.
Yet, what provided comfort to one household became a source of anxiety for the broader community. Despite its devotion to Ratan’s family, the dog bit three people over five years.
Initially, the family allowed the dog to roam free. However, after it attacked an elderly villager, fear took hold, and they began keeping it permanently chained. Despite the danger, Ratan refuses to part with the dog, viewing it as her child. Still, like her neighbors, she lives with a underlying fear of being bitten—a tension that keeps her slightly distant. Even so, the simple presence of the dog and the sound of its bark offer her real comfort. Hers is a bond far different from the idealized pets seen in cinema, yet it remains deeply meaningful. Adding to the tension, neighborhood children frequently provoke the chained dog for entertainment.
A far more critical issue, however, is public health: Ratan’s dog remains completely unvaccinated while sharing a tightly confined domestic space. Meals are prepared and consumed outdoors, and room partitions consist of simple fabric curtains (purdah) rather than solid walls. This open layout significantly elevates the risk of transmission—dander, coughing, and parasites can easily contaminate food and living quarters. Skin irritations causing persistent scratching are widely reported among dog owners in the village; though distinct from scabies, the condition is alarming. Ratan’s mother noted, “In the summer, this itching grows unbearable, especially in the extreme heat.” The local dispensary doctor confirmed he has treated this recurring ailment for 13 years. Given that Pakistan records nearly 5,000 rabies-related deaths each year, the situation requires immediate public health intervention.
Ratan’s story is not an isolated one; countless rural families unknowingly face similar risks by coexisting with unvaccinated animals. The fundamental issue is not why impoverished families choose to keep pets, but rather the absence of sustained public awareness and affordable preventive veterinary care. Annual vaccinations for rabies and distemper range from PKR 1,500 to 5,000—an impossible cost for low-income households. If public health authorities wish to tackle these zoonotic risks effectively, they must address both the human need for companionship and the structural barriers to affordable care.
Read: Marginalized Children Face Health Risks
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Sidra Shaikh is an anthropologist, researcher, and writer focused on society, culture, and everyday lived experiences. She aims to elevate human stories and bring attention to social realities that often remain in the margins.
