The dog with no end.

A couple of months ago a peculiar shaggy dog started straying in the streets of my brain. I have been watching him for some time now and I think he will turn into a story titled „The dog with no end“ soon. Just give it some time.

As much as I know so far he lives with an old lady who can’t remember his name, which doesn’t matter much because he can’t remember her name either, and when you know who you are and who the other person is and you don’t talk to anybody else anyway, names aren’t really that necessary. It is hard to tell the front and the back of the dog apart, and even the dog himself can’t sometimes, but that doesn’t matter much either, because the dog is used to bumping into things and he has learned that if one of his ends can’t manage to eat the food the old lady puts into his dish, the other end surely can.

The old lady keeps losing things, and when she blames it on her absent-mindedness the dog doesn’t object, although he knows that some of those lost things turn up in his hair some time later (one day when he licked his left hind leg he found a porcelain dolphin, a dollar bill and the key to the attic they both had believed to be gone, and he silently put everything back on the kitchen table). When times get tougher financially, his clumsiness turns out to be a lifesaver for the two of them.