Humans are certainly morally culpable for depriving other species of their habitat but dogs, pigeons, etc., have thrived in urban settings

The urban jungle is rich in wildlife. Stray dogs and cattle, monkeys, pigeons and rose-ringed parakeets are common in Indian cities, while leopards lurk on the fringes, making occasional forays into urban areas. Is peaceful co-existence possible, or do humans and animals pose a constant threat to each other’s wellbeing? 

The issue is now front and centre, with Mumbai’s ban on pigeon-feeding and the Supreme Court’s countrywide crackdown on stray dogs. Both decisions have galvanised animal lovers across the country, who interpret them as inhumane. But what constitutes a humane approach that is fair to all the stakeholder species involved? 

Take pigeons, for example, which have doubled in population since 2000 even as other bird species have declined. Their faecal matter is known to cause hypersensitivity pneumonitis and cryptococcal meningitis. A single pigeon can produce 12 kg of faeces per year. The droppings are all over our cities and, once dry, are suspended in the air that we breathe. Yet, a Jain monk frames pigeon-feeding as a matter of religious freedom. If mules and horses were banned in the capital on the grounds that they spread glanders disease, is it fair to ignore the contribution of pigeons to pulmonary diseases?

Let’s consider the approach to dogs. In Mumbai, it is unlikely that a dog would end up on the dinner table. In Kohima or Aizawl, chances are it would. Dog meat is a traditional part of the human diet in many parts of the world. In 2023, the Guwahati High Court set aside Nagaland’s 2020 ban on trade in dog meat on the grounds that its consumption was “an accepted norm...even in modern times”. In Mizoram, public protests erupted when the government sought to ban dog meat. Likewise, cow beef is a staple in many parts of India and taboo in others. This is not to argue that excess cattle and dogs should be converted into curry, but to point out that context must be taken into account. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to animals. For example, dog lovers who object to confining dogs in ill-equipped shelters do not protest the manifest cruelty of chicken farms. What makes one species more worthy of protection than another? 

Dog lovers argued that the dog-human relationship is a unique inter-species bond: non-transactional and based on love, loyalty, and companionship. Many humans will attest that dogs are the best people they know. The point is that the companion dog shares a home and hearth with the human. Stray dogs do not. They are willing to adopt humans, but it doesn’t work the other way around. Humans may feed them, but do not adopt them. The stray will be loyal to the provisioning human and will live near her home. At the same time, the stray is often part of a territorial pack, terrifying to those who venture into ‘their’ street. The domestic dog who plays nanny to the family baby is a far cry from a feral pack that attacks a stranger.

In 2024, there were 3.7 million reported cases of dog bites and 54 deaths from rabies. Obviously, the answer lies in mass vaccination and sterilisation. To get dogs off the streets, it is equally important to conduct aggressive adoption campaigns and encourage adoptive dog parents to get their dogs sterilised. Vets report that dog parents are often negligent about getting male dogs sterilised because any resultant puppies are not their problem. Registration of dogs should be made mandatory, and abandonment of dogs or their puppies must be criminalised.

A blanket ban on dog breeding and import could go a long way in promoting adoption of strays. With so large a dog population (estimated at 33 million in 2023), it makes little sense to import or propagate high-maintenance breeds, especially thick-coated ones unsuited for India’s climate. A dog is not a toy or a status symbol, and a campaign to that effect must be conducted.

Monkeys, unlike dogs, are not pet material. Macaques travel in troupes and are known for their mischief. In the temple town of Brindavan, devotees are resigned to the theft of bags, spectacles, jewellery, etc., which are then returned by the monkeys in exchange for food. In cities, monkeys invade homes and kitchens, decimate water tanks and pipes, play havoc with potted plants and clotheslines and chew optic fibre cables, disrupting Wi-Fi systems. In rural areas, they attack orchards and vegetable fields, causing extensive crop damage. 

In Himachal Pradesh, monkeys are culled but are considered sacred in most of India. States have come up with numerous schemes to control the population of urban monkeys: using langurs (now banned) or humans dressed as langurs (with limited success), ultrasonic guns, sterilisation, creation of sanctuaries and translocation. None has proved effective. Sterilisation rates are very low, and translocation merely shifts the problem from one place to another. Provisioning of food for monkeys—either in the form of feeding by citizens or food waste in garbage—has been identified not only as a cause of population explosion but also increased aggression. Monkeys are hierarchical and perceive humans who feed them as below them in the pecking order; that’s why they turn aggressive. With the increasing incidence of monkey bites in the capital, the Delhi High Court last year appealed to citizens to stop feeding monkeys. Uttarakhand criminalised the practice ten years ago, but there’s no record of anyone being arrested for it. As of now, the most promising solution in the works is an oral contraceptive being developed by the Wildlife Institute of India.

Humans are certainly morally culpable for depriving other species of their habitat. But dogs, monkeys, pigeons and other species have adapted and thrived in urban settings where food is ample, and predators are non-existent. The result is overpopulation and human-animal conflict, ranging from nuisance value to mortal danger. It is neither kind to humans nor to the animals.