When I was a child, there was a local dog in my hometown

When I was a child, there was a local dog in my hometown

. I would go back to my hometown during the winter and summer vacations. When I first saw it, it was probably because it was guarding the house, so it was very fierce to me. It barked at me as soon as I appeared. I was very angry, so I clamped it with a pair of pliers and made a snapping sound. While clamping, I said to it, if you bark again, I will pull out your dog teeth, break your dog legs and so on. The more I said, the more it seemed to understand, and the more fierce it barked, and I soon lost to it in momentum. If the hard way didn’t work, I would try the soft way. I often fed it, and its hostility towards me became less and less, but I still didn’t dare to get close to it. My grandfather saw that I liked dogs, so he grabbed the chain on its neck and asked me to touch it. I plucked up the courage to touch it. The dog was very docile and enjoyed it. We turned enemies into friends.

I often feed it food, such as leftovers, bones, fat, and sometimes ham. My aunt said to me, “People are reluctant to eat it, but you feed it to the dog.” Later, I dared not feed ham to the dog anymore, and only fed it bones.

I always play with it, grab its front legs to stand up, sometimes wrestling, sometimes dancing, and we are very happy. My aunt also always says to me that dogs are too dirty.

One day, a relative passed by the back of the yard of my hometown. In order to save trouble, he climbed over the wall and jumped to the doghouse. The dog rushed up and bit him. The relative was so angry that he picked up a stick to beat it. The dog broke free from the chain and ran away. He didn’t come back for a whole day. I was very sad. My grandmother comforted me and said it was okay and it would come back in two days. Sure enough, it came back the next night. That night, because I didn’t finish my homework, my dad scolded me. I was angry and helpless. When I went to the toilet, I saw something running towards me with joy in the dark night. I was startled, but from the sound, I judged that it was the dog. It wanted to play with me in a free state, but I was sad about the shitty homework, so I didn’t play with it. This is also something that I regretted very much later. It snowed heavily

during the winter vacation. My uncle swept the snow into a pile and piled it next to the doghouse. At noon, I made a lot of big bones. I saved several pieces of bones that I had eaten and gave them to it. It was very happy and ate one piece, and then buried the rest of the bones in the snow. I thought it was very interesting, so I went to the snow pile to find bones, but the bones were covered with snow and I couldn’t see that they were bones. I didn’t recognize them even when they were dug out next to me. The dog watched me digging and digging next to me, and then picked up a big piece of snow and put it in front of me. I picked it up and knocked it a few times, and found that it was a bone. It thought I wanted to eat bones.

Half a year later, I went back to my hometown during the holiday. The dog didn’t recognize me and barked at me. I shouted “Beier, stop barking”. I usually call it “Beier”, which is the local dialect for dogs in Northeast China. After it heard it, the sound gradually stopped, lowered its head to think for a while, and when it looked up again, its tail started to wag.

After staying for a long time, I gradually heard the different meanings expressed by its different barks. For example, when there are strangers, it will bark in a series of long warnings, bark fiercely when angry or ready to fight (when it is fighting with me), and neigh with a wail when it is hungry. When I am in the house and it wants to call me out to play, it barks two or three times shortly, just for me to hear. Every time I hear it calling me, I will see it standing in the direction of my door, wagging its tail when I go out. I am complacent that I can understand dog language.

At that time, the chickens raised by the neighbors would always wander into the yard of my old house. Due to the sense of territory, I wanted to chase them away, but they would come back next time. I told the dog that if their chickens came again, I would chase them to your place. You should hide in the kennel and keep quiet. When the chickens came to your place, you can come out and bite them. I saw that it listened to me seriously and seemed to understand. Instead, I had a feeling of half-belief and half-doubt, and then I acted according to the plan. When the chickens came, I ran over to chase them to the dog kennel. The dog actually hid behind the wall. When the chickens arrived, it suddenly rushed out and pounced on the chickens. The chickens flew and the dogs were in chaos. At that time, I felt like we were geniuses after Miyagi and Sakuragi successfully dunked the slam dunk. The dog could actually understand my tactics. Is its IQ not lower than mine?

The old man’s attitude towards the dog is that it is the end of the livestock chain, not as good as chickens and ducks, and even worse than donkeys and horses. There is no other affection. Usually, it is fed very poorly, not to mention playing with it. When I just came back from the holiday, the dog was so thin that its spine and ribs were all one by one. Then I fed it a lot and it grew some meat. Although he knew that I liked it, my grandfather would often say that useless things would waste food and always wanted to sell it. At the end of that holiday, I had a bad feeling. When I was walking with my schoolbag, I hugged the dog and said to it, you must be careful. If you can survive here, stay here. If someone wants to buy you and take you away one day, you should bite it and run away no matter who it is. Don’t come back. After that, I shed tears and turned to leave. After walking a few dozen meters out of the yard, I heard a few long wails. I told my mother that I understood. It knew I was leaving. It said it was reluctant to let me go. It understood everything.

The next holiday I went back to my hometown. I didn’t hear the dog barking when I entered the yard. I pretended to ask my aunt casually, “Where’s the dog?” My aunt said, “It’s sold.” Then everyone in the room smiled and wanted to see my reaction as a child. I didn’t want to be made fun of, so I resisted the urge to make any expression. After a while, I walked out of the house and went to the place where the dog had lived. I took a look at the shabby nest that couldn’t even be called a nest, secretly wiped my tears, and then pretended to go back into the house as if nothing had happened.

About twenty years have passed. Until a few years ago, I still dreamed of the dog. I dreamed that it was lying in that simple nest, it was raining, and it was shivering with cold. Later, I often searched the Internet for the kind of doghouse that can be assembled, imagining how happy it would be if I bought one like this for it.