I'd just barely exited the airport and was headed to the parking area for my
ride when I saw what looked like a dead dog in the street.  A terrible start to
my visit to India.

Nope, not dead.  Sleeping, in fact, and sleeping quite soundly with his head
inclined on the warm, asphalt speed bump.  In fact, he was wearing a little vest
or a sweater of some sort.  Hmm, clearly I had some things to learn about
India.

One of the things I learned is that there are millions and millions of dogs in
Delhi like this one napping in the open-air market, and I can only assume in the
other cities as well. They're street dogs, and they do what dogs do best: fight,
chase other dogs out of their territory, forage for food, nap, and make puppies.
 And Indians, in their quintessential love and respect for all forms of life,
pretty much let them be.  Not sure about the little vests, must be some sort of
symbol that a particular dog is cared for.  They're kind of cute.

Not an easy life, over all: I saw one pupper in a cast who had clearly had a run
in with traffic.  But he hobbled around through the market and people gave him
bits of things to eat, so he was doing OK.  Others seemed to be pretty well
off.

Not a single one had the tell-tale curly hair of a lab-created
something-doodle.

Live well, Indian puppers. Live well.