Addressing the Chief Minister of Punjab, he proposed that NGOs working for animal welfare be “gifted five thousand dogs each,” so they can sterilize them, vaccinate them against rabies, and establish dog control units at the municipal level.
His suggestion unleashed a storm online—WhatsApp groups are buzzing with arguments, Facebook is flooded with memes, Instagram with press releases, and TikTok with short, viral videos.
Curious about the commotion, I decided to dig deeper. Turns out, it all began when an Al-Khidmat volunteer named Hamid was bitten by a rabid dog in the tent city of Chuhng. Thankfully, Hamid survived after receiving treatment for rabies. But the incident inspired Qaiser Sharif to take it upon himself to save other citizens from the “mad dogs” of the city.
Whether Maryam Nawaz takes her political rival’s suggestion seriously remains to be seen. Lately, though, she seems more intent on pursuing Sindh with singular determination.
Speaking of Jamaat-e-Islami—ever since Hafiz Naeem ur Rehman, during a rally in Lahore, demanded to know “why every tweet can be sent from jail except one supporting Hamas, or condemning Netanyahu and Trump—when the people of Pakistan are watching everything,”—he has been under fierce criticism. PTI supporters hurled insults online, while Jamaat workers responded with equal ferocity.
I fail to understand—when our romance with America is blossoming, when deals are being struck with Saudi Arabia, and verses of Iqbal are being recited in Malaysia—where does this sudden debate spring from?
Anyway, back to the dogs. As Faiz Ahmed Faiz once wrote:
یہ گلیوں کے آوارہ بے کار کتے
کہ بخشا گیا جن کو ذوق گدائی
زمانے کی پھٹکار سرمایہ ان کا
جہاں بھر کی دھتکار ان کی کمائی
But the conversation doesn’t stop at Faiz. A social media user recently posted a video of political workers chasing Justice Qazi Faez Isa’s car, remarking, “Dogs do not read history—otherwise they wouldn’t run after cars.”
While scrolling further, I stumbled upon Patras Bukhari’s classic essay on dogs. He writes:
“A dog is a loyal creature. But if loyalty means barking from seven in the evening till six in the morning without taking a breath—then I would rather remain disloyal.”
Later, he adds,
“If God granted me, for a time, the power to bark and bite as dogs do, I have enough vengeance within me that soon every dog would end up at the hospital for treatment.”
Got it or not? If not, then start observing them in deserted streets, near butcher shops, or among those kept as pampered pets—the ones perhaps Qaiser Sharif had in mind.
After all, how could someone fail to appreciate this faithful creature—especially one whose “Shiro” has access to the bedroom, and whose dining table conversations revolve around “Zoro’s” adventures?
