Walk through any city in Nepal and you will see them: street animals who are owned by none but belong to us all. They are a visible part of our lives; however, their welfare has long been treated as an afterthought. For years, we noticed only when they posed a nuisance, and then we responded with mass poisoning. Although we now turn to humane measures, this progress remains fragile because it is not backed by sustained systems. Municipal budgets may now include provisions for animal welfare, but action in the field tends to work only when public pressure is high. Once complaints subside, campaigns lose momentum, showing that we are reacting to crises rather than managing animal populations proactively.
In this vacuum, small organisations end up taking on work that should fall to the state. They do it with small teams, unstable funding, and almost no support, while official programmes often do just enough to look active on paper. Without steady planning and real resource management, we end up trapped in the same cycle again and again. Let’s talk about animal shelters. We often picture them as calm, safe havens, but in reality, many are stretched far beyond their limits. Shelters built for fifty animals can end up caring for a hundred, turning spaces meant for healing into crowded, stressful environments where even basic care becomes a struggle.
Compromise
The public often expects them to take in every stray, but this pressure can actually compromise the well-being of the animals already inside. Shelters are meant for treatment and recovery, not long-term housing. And while holding them accountable is important, criticism without understanding the challenges they face can discourage the people doing some of the hardest work in animal care. So, if the government is slow and shelters are full, who is left? The answer is us: the community. We cannot wait for a perfect policy to be written.
Welfare starts with the most basic biological need: food. We must feed as much as we can. A hungry dog is a desperate dog, and desperation leads to aggression and disease. Feeding the strays in your streets is a way to keep your neighbourhood calm and safe. Beyond food, we must think about survival during the harsh seasons. Offering warm blankets, old clothes, or even a dry cardboard box in a sheltered corner of your compound can be the difference between life and death for a street dog.
The most critical mindset shift we need concerns medical care. Most times, when we see a sick animal, our first instinct is to call a shelter and wait. But shelters are overwhelmed. We need to realise that we can handle many of these situations ourselves. Veterinary care is not always unaffordable; many common issues can be treated for a fraction of the cost we anticipate. If you see a dog with a skin issue or a minor injury, consult a vet yourself, or contact welfare organisations regarding medicines you can administer yourself in the locality. We do not need to wait for a rescue team for every scratched ear or infected paw. We can be the rescue team.
Finally, the most important point: we must take ownership of the population itself. Do not wait for the municipal van that may never come. If there are unsterilised or unvaccinated dogs or cats in your community, take the initiative. Coordinate with a local vet, collect donations from your neighbours, and get them sterilized. This is the only way to stop the cycle of numerous puppies being born into misery. Some non-profit organisations sterilise for charges as low as Rs. 2,500–3,500 and sometimes for free in designated areas during camps.
Commitment
Bringing a pet home is not just a sweet gesture or a one-time gift; it is a commitment that can last for years. Pets need your time, attention, and care every single day, from feeding and vet visits to handling emergencies as they grow older. If you are not ready to provide the patience, stability, and energy they deserve for their whole life, it is actually kinder not to adopt.
Nepal's path from mass poisoning to establishing humane animal care proves that we can achieve real change, but it is neither simple nor automatic. Animal welfare is not just about kindness; it reflects our sense of responsibility, our commitment to public health, and the values we embrace. Sustainable progress requires steady government backing, functional policies, and continuous effort from citizens daily. A truly caring system that benefits both animals and people can only be built and sustained when that responsibility is shared and maintained by all.
(Gautam is a Psychology and Social Work student at St. Xavier’s College, Maitighar in Kathmandu.)