<p>Srinagar: A decade ago, dogs in <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/india/jammu-and-kashmir">Kashmir </a>were kept on chains and cats roamed largely unnoticed. Today, both are moving indoors—named, groomed, photographed, and treated as family.</p><p>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.</p> .From myth to reality: How Kashmiri youth perceive Pakistan today.<p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p> .<p>But in Kashmir, the shift carries deeper social meaning.</p><p>For a generation that grew up amid cycles of violence and uncertainty, pets offer a form of emotional anchoring.</p><p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p> .<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>That gap shows. Veterinarians warn that awareness about responsible ownership remains limited.</p> .<p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p><p>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.”</p> .<p>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.</p><p>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.</p>
<p>Srinagar: A decade ago, dogs in <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/india/jammu-and-kashmir">Kashmir </a>were kept on chains and cats roamed largely unnoticed. Today, both are moving indoors—named, groomed, photographed, and treated as family.</p><p>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.</p> .From myth to reality: How Kashmiri youth perceive Pakistan today.<p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p> .<p>But in Kashmir, the shift carries deeper social meaning.</p><p>For a generation that grew up amid cycles of violence and uncertainty, pets offer a form of emotional anchoring.</p><p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p> .<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>That gap shows. Veterinarians warn that awareness about responsible ownership remains limited.</p> .<p>“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.”</p><p>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.</p><p>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.”</p> .<p>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.</p><p>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.</p>