Today, I want to share with you a heartfelt story that embodies patience, hope, and love.
The story begins in the quiet pathways of Bagmati, where silence and shadows ruled, there was a dog “Mama Kali” whose tale would move us and ignite our spirits.
A few years ago, the Bagmati corridors were less traveled, bushy, and vacant.
Because there were few people around, the dogs in that area had little exposure to humans and were scared and unsocial, making it difficult to catch them for treatment or spaying.
I began feeding the dogs in that area, slowly making a connection with them, and started spaying one dog at a time.
Over a few years, the dog population in the area was controlled and decreased. We managed to spay all the dogs except for Mama Kali.
Mama Kali never came close to me. I had to leave food and stay 15 or 20 meters away to feed her.
I never gave up on trying to catch her, but every time she escaped.
Every year, she had more puppies. Some got adopted, some were lost or died, and some never got adopted.
Because we couldn’t spay Kali, we had to keep finding homes for her puppies and spay them if they weren’t adopted.
Kali was a great mother, showing that motherhood is the same for humans and animals. I remember the day when Mama Kali’s daughter Musi, suddenly died on August 12, 2022.
Kali was devastated and heartbroken. She stayed with her daughter, crying in pain.
We buried her daughter, but the next day, Kali dug her up from the grave and sat next to her, crying. Losing a child is painful, and witnessing Kali’s grief was heart-wrenching.
I felt sad that she had to go through all this because she couldn’t get spayed on time. But I didn’t lose hope.
One lucky morning, while we were spaying other dogs, my team and I tried to catch her again.
This time, we were lucky because Mama Kali was in a deep sleep.
We put a net over her. Kali was scared and screamed with fear as this was her first close encounter with humans.
It was my first time seeing Kali up close. I rubbed her head to calm her, but it didn’t help.
We quickly spayed her and returned her to her place, which she called home.
She was angry with me for a few days and wouldn’t come close, but after a while, we rebuilt our connection.
Now, Kali is happy with her grown-up children. They live together and come running to us whenever they see us.
Kali still doesn’t let me touch her, but she has decreased her distance from 15 meters to 2 meters. I hope for the day when there won’t be any distance between us.