Two Old Dogs

By Anwen Marshall

I found round the back of my home a curious sight; two old dogs chained to a post. One struck blind and one left lame, no shelter no matter wind or rain. I watched through my window, not wishing to get close, for the dogs did not welcome a visitor in what they had once been convinced was home.

The blind barked all through the night, but I wouldn’t have minded if it ended at that. They destroyed all, all as far as their chain would reach. They dug its own trenches around its bed, hacked into pieces every object left near, and if bored would sit and chew at its own rotting leg; purple, red and oozing back into the pits dug all around. The only thing it would never destroy was the post and chain, one too deep and one too strong. The worst of all was visitors, for one day a hand had chained the dog there, and every hand that came near may be the same, so they decided to defend, to attack. I suppose it was safer.

The lame would lie within the mud and watch the blind in its rampage. How disgusting they found them in their massacre, they understood but would never agree, for whether it was fear or anger just sitting still as it was, as it had to, would cause no more harm. But it could not stop the blind, if they even knew they were there, all it could do was helplessly watch; each splinter of wood, each kick of dirt and dust, each trickle of stinking blood. Neither could they escape them, they were together forever and always, to the post, to each other. If someone would take them away they would have to take both, but who would ever want a dog so wild, and who would ever want a dog so useless. Every now and again they would find themselves hoping the blind finally found them and wrecked them too, just to escape, to move elsewhere.

But one day I opened my back door and went to the dogs, pliers in hand. I carried the lame, my legs their own, going back for the blind. The blind I would lead, but they would find their own way once they knew they were free. Just let them know where the door was, they would have to cross it themselves. But now I have two dogs in my home; one struck cruel and one left glum. What a curious sight.