It was at the railway station in Quetta that Elizabeth found one of her numerous dogs. Apparently the dog had last seen his owner there, for he continually tried to jump onto a train for more than twenty-four hours — refusing all food — so the station-master said. This so touched Elizabeth that she brought him home, naming him "Foundy," and Baba allowed her to keep him. Foundy traveled back and forth with her in India, and later even to America.

Baba had great feeling for all life. Life must not be treated lightly. Not a worm or an ant must be trodden on consciously. If unconscious then it was excusable. If a mouse or a rat was caught on the hill or fell in a well, it had to be rescued and taken in a trap a mile from the compound and given its freedom; or again, if a lizard was seen on the wall, it was caught in a towel or shooed through the door. Sick birds, little hares, lame dogs — all found a haven near Baba and were given into the care of Naja who had a healing touch. When any of our pets died, Baba would always see that they were properly buried, supervising the operation Himself, but He did not want us to be emotionally upset. Had they not been touched, cared for and loved by Baba? Thus, death to them meant progression in evolution.