Stray Puppies

Every night, when I walk back from the bazaar on an errand to get bread, cheese etc. There are these puppies, these stray puppies. Skinny as can be. Scared of humans. Four of them, each time I see them, they become skinnier and skinnier. And outside of the apartment building that I am staying at, there is always a watchman. Just to make sure nothing happens and what not.

One night, instead of avoiding the puppies, I stopped. Because it just kept breaking my heart when I didn't stop to give them the attention they wanted. Hesitantly, they came towards me, then finally nudged my hand with their noses. I was so happy. The watchman saw how friendly they got with me and started to talk to me in Gujarati, I didn't know what he was saying to me. Then I looked up at him and he was making a motion of eating. He was asking me if I had any food I could give the puppies. I nodded immediately and rushed upstairs to get some biscuits. I brought a big biscuit for each one of them. As I hand fed them, they chewed on them happily. I felt good then. Now I try to see them when I can and have the time, and try to give them food, if I can.