From conflict to companionship: Kashmir’s dogs and cats move indoors

Srinagar: A decade ago, dogs in Kashmir were kept on chains and cats roamed largely unnoticed. Today, both are moving indoors—named, groomed, photographed, and treated as family.

A quiet but striking shift is underway in the Valley: pets are no longer just functional—they are companions. From college students adopting stray cats to young professionals buying pedigree dogs, Kashmir’s changing relationship with animals is offering a revealing glimpse into how everyday life is evolving beyond years of conflict.

“Earlier, dogs stayed outside. Now people ask about diet charts and behaviour,” says a Srinagar-based veterinarian, who notes a steady rise in first-time pet owners over the past five years. “It’s no longer about security. It’s about companionship.”

This transformation mirrors a broader, if understated, trend across urban India. Studies show pet ownership is rising, particularly among higher-income and urban households, reflecting changing lifestyles and attitudes. India is home to an estimated 25–30 million pet dogs, though ownership levels vary widely by region and class.

But in Kashmir, the shift carries deeper social meaning.

For a generation that grew up amid cycles of violence and uncertainty, pets offer a form of emotional anchoring.

“When everything outside feels unpredictable, coming home to a pet gives you routine,” says Bazila, a college student in Srinagar who adopted a stray cat during the pandemic. “You have to feed it, care for it—it gives your day structure.”

Research increasingly supports this instinct, with surveys across India showing a large majority of pet owners reporting reduced stress and improved emotional well-being. In Kashmir, where formal conversations around mental health remain limited, pets have quietly filled that gap.

Social media has amplified the shift. On platforms like Instagram and YouTube, Kashmiri pet accounts—featuring cats against snow-lined windows or dogs bounding through almond blossoms—have built small but growing audiences. These images do more than entertain; they normalize a lifestyle once seen as distant.

The market is responding. Pet food stores, grooming services, and informal veterinary networks have expanded, particularly in Srinagar. Yet, the ecosystem remains uneven, with many owners relying on word-of-mouth advice rather than formal training or veterinary guidance.

That gap shows. Veterinarians warn that awareness about responsible ownership remains limited.

“People buy breeds like huskies because they look good on social media,” says one doctor. “But they don’t always understand climate suitability or long-term care.”

Alongside the rise in pedigree pets, however, a quieter shift is visible: the adoption of strays. Animal welfare volunteers say more young people are choosing to take in injured or abandoned animals. While still a small movement, it signals a gradual change—from ownership as status to care as responsibility.

For older generations, the change remains striking. “We never kept animals inside the house,” says Abdul Rehman Bhat, a retired government employee in old city Srinagar. “They had a purpose. Now they are like children.”

As joint families give way to smaller households, and as young people spend more time studying, working online, or navigating uncertain job markets, pets are filling emotional and social gaps.

This pet boom may not make headlines in the way politics or conflict once did. Yet, it offers a rare, intimate glimpse into a society in transition—where everyday life is being quietly reshaped.