A few weeks ago social media was flooded with people revolting against the order of the Supreme Court. On August 11, the Supreme Court ordered the immediate removal of thousands of stray dogs from the streets of Delhi. With an increase in the number of rabies cases and canine attacks, the court saw no way forward but to take extreme measures.
While I totally understand the outrage, the sentiment of my fellow dog lovers, the problem at hand is so much more complex. From poor policy making to a lack of follow through and enforcement. The more important question to ask is why are we seeing the beloved dog or the revered cow on the streets and highways of our country? NGOs and activists are quick to speak up when wanted but who is going to act when there are people dying of canine bites or road accidents?
On a philosophical note, the undying love for the dog, often referred to as man’s best friend has been across the globe since time immemorial. And the tradition of immortalising animals in art dates back to ancient civilisations, symbolising their importance in daily life and after life. In medieval Europe, dogs were often depicted in hunting scenes, symbolising traits like unwavering loyalty, fidelity, and alertness, a sign of aristocratic leisure. But it was only since the Renaissance that pet portraiture as we see in opulent palaces and stately homes in the West came into being.
As dog breeds gained refinement, 18th and 19th century portraits featured dogs as beloved companions, often with high social status patrons. Often in stiff, uppity tight postures and immaculately choreographed backdrops.
A few years ago, an exhibition at the Wallace Collection in London shed light on the way dog portraiture has evolved with each generation. ‘Portraits of Dogs: From Gainsborough to Hockney’, served as both a celebration and a masterclass in canine portraiture, from anatomical precision to emotional allegory. While its depth might have left some seeking more thematic guidance, for many like me, it was also a joyous rendezvous with all things dog in art. Spanning centuries, mediums, and styles, from a 2nd century Roman marble sculpture of entwined greyhounds to Leonardo da Vinci’s anatomical studies of a dog’s paw. The exhibition featured celebrated artists like Gainsborough, Stubbs, Landseer, and David Hockney, often celebrating their own pets or anthropomorphizing dogs in evocative scenarios.
Sir Edwin Landseer, known for his allegorical dog paintings featured heavily throughout the exhibition. The British artist and sculptor was celebrated for his dog portraiture. So much so that Queen Victoria and Prince Albert took drawing lessons from him, as a means to make likenesses of their canine family, of which Victoria was keen to visually document, just as much as any prince or princess.
My all time favourite work of Landseer would have to be, ‘Trial by Jury.’ A satirical oil on canvas painting from 1840, Landseer depicts dogs as members of a court of law. A rather bored looking French poodle takes the spotlight, playing the role of the judge. The other enthusiastic canines huddled around him.
While Landseer was busy immortalising the dogs of nobility, Belgian painter Joseph Stevens turned to Realism. He portrayed stray dogs scavenging in streets and gutters, bringing a gritty, emotional truth to the canvas. His 1848 work ‘Morning in Brussels’ depicts stray dogs rummaging for food amid urban neglect.
Stevens was perhaps a pioneer in turning the gaze toward stray dogs not as background figures, but as subjects of empathy, focusing on their everyday lives. This shift parallels how our policies and public attitudes must shift: from seeing stray dogs as nuisances to engaging with them as living beings with rights, ecological roles, and mutual impact.
Over the years several contemporary artists in India too have explored this subject. Spanning photography, street art, illustration, and community portraiture, artists approach the stray dog not as a nuisance, but as a subject rich with emotional and symbolic weight. They portray strays with dignity, empathy, and agency, reframing these animals through varied lenses.
For example, Neenad Joseph Arul embarked on his Dog Story series in Mumbai, capturing stray dogs with a sense of companionship and curiosity. His subjects, often recognizable by distinct markings or injuries, became collaborators in his street photography. He notes that dogs, unlike people, didn’t fear the camera, and his bond with them helped overcome his own photographic anxieties.
In Goa, Rohit Chawla spent three years photographing stray dogs around Ashvem Beach, producing over 10,000 images. The resulting exhibition, Rain Dogs, distilled his deeply introspective and vulnerable connection to these animals, transforming them from subjects into mirrors of his own inner landscape.
Similarly, in Bengaluru’s JP Nagar, a quiet wall now bears a carved tribute to ‘Pikachu,’ a neighborhood stray dog who was loved by locals. The mural is surrounded by handwritten notes, small tributes from residents, expressing affection, loss, and communal memory .
Throughout history, dog portraits have oscillated between idealized companionship and raw depictions of survival, revealing how humans perceive and represent their canine counterparts, from cherished pets to urbane observers of urban life. However, today, the harsh reality of stray dogs in India has transformed them from symbols into societal challenges, urging us to reimagine engagement, policy, and empathy. From the dignified calm of a Victorian pet portrait to the chaotic reality of strays navigating urban India, the dog continues to serve as a mirror: reflecting our values, failures, and hopes. The present moment demands good policy making not emotional rage on social media.
Let’s give our artists a more vibrant canvas to capture the canine and human discourse.