The Third Dog's Silence

Originally written on February 13, 2023





The searing noise of trains passed around the corner of a street. Out of this corner, a young man shuffled along by himself. The soothing ambient of cars whizzing by caused him to become impassibly calm. The magical taste of biscuits on his hand added to this calmness, making him embody a fantastical tower of stoic solitude. He mindlessly rubbed his hand against a light post, feeling its corroded, sinking metal. 

An irritating mess of odors containing the sewer, mud, and rainwater in the streets made him shuffle hurriedly.  

A rudely large amount of drops of crumbs from his biscuit made him frustratedly complain "Argh!"

Yet, in his midst, hundreds of other passersby gazed openly at the street ahead, unbothered by this young man's complaint.

Unworried about the lack of concern of those around him, the young man moved along on the sidewalk.

At the end of the street, the young man, Sigurd, heard a faint sound of groaning coming from his left in an alleyway.  

Two dogs pushed a smaller dog against a wall, making it bleed and whine. "Ow!" it screamed.

Sigurd ran like the wind, catching the dogs off guard with a kick. The two dogs blocked his punch with their jaws; however, they shook, weakened.

Sigurd retracted his leg, so the dogs bit his other leg, making him yelp in fear.

Sigurd fell to the ground and crawled away, pressing and kicking the dogs exasperatedly.

The dogs bit him harder as they grew even weaker to Sigurd's abuse.

Sigurd screamed in relief after the dogs sustained too much damage and fell unconscious.

Weak, he carefully called an ambulance for himself, lowering his stiffly raised shoulders.

His mind processed his situation when he was inside the ambulance. He was lucky in his fight because the dogs reacted too late to his attack and the incorporation of sidewalks helped him run and fight easier. He might not be so lucky next time. These thoughts repeated in his head even after he recovered and returned home.

The calming melody of jazz echoed across his home. Sigurd excellently danced, feeling the soft carpet covering the floor with his toes. He excitedly played games with himself via cards, feeling the edges of the plastic cards. While drinking, he spilled water on his fingers and rubbed them together mindlessly. 

The numbing drone of the air conditioner of his room made him sleepy.

His sleepiness annoyed him, making him abruptly stand up and stretch to remove it.

The water that spilled on his fingers reached his clothes as well, making him feel lightheaded.

Drying himself, he removed his clothes, and the cold conditioned air rested on his body, making him shiver. 

The alien shadow of a dog passed over him, and he turned around to see an out-of-place dog at his door.

The dog barked angrily.

Sigurd covered his mouth in shock.

The dog charged and barked incessantly. 

Sigurd clumsily ran atop his bouncy bed as the dog stopped and scanned the objects of his room strangely.

Impossibly, the dog ran to a desk, grabbed it with its teeth, and pulled to the bed, much to Sigurd's horror.

Barking, the dog climbed up the desk to the bed as Sigurd jumped off the bed, shouting.

Sigurd ran to the door and strongly closed it, groaning in relief.

Thoughtfully, the dog climbed down the desk off the bed, walked to the door, and opened it.

Panicking, Sigurd screamed and slammed the door against it repeatedly.

The dog was robotically silent despite Sigurd's haphazard abuse of it.

Sigurd closed the door, found a couple of person-sized vases to his left and right, and blocked the door with the vases, gauchely escaping.

When he left his home, he loudly sighed in relief.

His mind was running fast on glucose. The dog almost killed him, but he survived because of the vases and found a wonderful place to eat. Would he live again if he was given a third fight with a dog? How lucky was he? How strange was it for a dog to be that smart? These tense questions circulating his mind showed that he couldn't understand his inhuman situation, yet it was good enough that he was breathing the air still. A lift of the corners of his mouth joined the tension hiding in his eyes.