Of Dogs and Men

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Christian Writers

The survivor of a spaceship crash unknowingly founds a civilization of sentient dogs, who experience pivotal events of their history a thousand years later. Sequel to ICHTHYS and IDOLS. Continues


 2133 AD

They crash-landed on the planet just when the small, orange sun was about to dive behind the misty mountain peaks. Grayish clouds frowned upon the unspoiled, virgin soil covered by abundant grass. The air was warm and pleasant, and some exotic plants were spreading a barely perceptible, nostalgically sweet scent.

The Sergeant knew that he was going to die. He also knew that everyone else had already died. The impact was much too strong – it was a miracle that he himself survived, at least for those few minutes; still conscious, still lucid, not even feeling any pain yet. No, that wasn't quite true. His soul was drowning in excruciating pain, impaled by one sharp, merciless thought: it's over. No one will be able to deliver the news. There will be no colonization. Colonization? Screw that, there will be no humanity. The horrible war back on Earth was devouring his race. Those proud pricks and their stupid, stupid ideologies, all of them – the united, yet really isolated, paralyzed West, believing in nothing, devoid of essential instincts and love of life; the sinister, suffocating Middle Land, rooted in cold, rigid, dead social structures, unable to love and forgive; and the Caliphate – radiant, triumphant, but at what cost – eliminating or absorbing everyone else under its testosterone-soaked flag, a crude, cruel parody of a relationship with the Divine.

Philosophy on deathbed, the Sergeant thought and grinned to himself. He was versed in many humanitarian disciplines – like one of those bloody 19th century dudes he used to like. He even tried to remember some of the Latin he'd self-taught a long time ago – but his mind must have succumbed to delirium, because the only short phrase stuck in it, repeating itself ad nauseam, was, for some reason, fiat lux. That's it, buddy. You'd joined an elite team of astronauts, sent by an independent organization to find a new home for the remnants of the mad, possessed humanity. Following years of unseen hardship, they'd found a suitable planet – better than suitable, wonderful, the best of all possible worlds. An idiotic, unfathomable navigation error – and there you go: the entire crew dead, and you are getting ready to kick the proverbial bucket very soon as well.

It's unfair, the Sergeant thought – just like he had in his childhood when the humiliation of never getting even a drop out of that tempting condensed milk jar had become unbearable. Tears started flowing down his cheeks. It's unfair, he thought again. Life is unfair. Everything is unfair. He wept bitterly, and then heard a whimper.

Unmistakably, that was a whimper, and it was coming from a large metallic box lying in the grass just a few feet away from him. He instantly remembered. They had taken two dogs with them. Male and female. Large and reddish – merry, chaotic mixtures of different breeds. And now they were just a few feet away, locked in the box, sure to die of thirst very soon if he didn't do anything.

So he crawled. It was hard – much harder than he would ever imagine. It turned out that only one of his arms was functioning; the legs were dead, dangling helplessly as he tried to cover the ground inch by inch, full of incomprehensible determination. A rational thought flashed through his mind – why was he wasting his last moments trying to prolong the life of two animals? But what is rational thinking compared to the genuine urges of the heart, he thought, surprised and almost amused at the ridiculously inappropriate clarity of his analysis. He reached the box, unlocked the small opening, and fell on his back, exhausted.

Two dogs ran out of the box, moving their snouts left and right, looking fussy, confused, and lost. They noticed the Sergeant instantly, surrounded him, stood there with their tongues outside, glimpses of guilt in their tranquil eyes. They sniffed his hands, licked his fingers tenderly. And the Sergeant felt a strange happiness rising in his dying body. Just before he exhaled the soothing air of the planet for the last time, he attempted to smile at the dogs and whispered, remembering something he'd almost forgotten:




3133 AD – 1000 CA (Cynian Age)

“Fine,” Inumoto Kenichi said. “We'll keep going. If you insist. Anything to make you shut up... you and his bloody majesty.”

Flavius Augustus Canis scratched his left ear with his hinder paw. The fleas were raging, he thought, it's always that uneasy hot, moist, damp season on Cynia that brought forth the worst of those insects. He attempted a prayer to the Gods, but it didn't work – concentration was not his forte.

“Guys, we need to move.” Ben Kelev stuck out a broad pinkish tongue. His saliva-covered hanging jowls looked intimidating, concealing tender vulnerability. The deceptive fearsomeness of the Boxers: a myth, like all the other prejudices plaguing sons of bitches from century to century. With disgust, Canis thought of the URCD – Union of Racially Clean Dachshunds, a dreadful name if there was ever one. Oh merciful Lords, when shall ye arrive and purge evil out of this long-suffering planet?..

“Yup, only about an hour left till dark,” Inumoto agreed easily, his boisterous Shiba posture contrasting Canis's own stooping figure, his narrow, cool eyes so different from the old monk's soulful Labrador gaze. Ben Kelev stood up, raised his large head, and at that moment the three of them saw someone coming down the hill.

He was just a regular son of a bitch. One may even say less than regular, Canis thought as the unknown Chihuahua stared at him. Like all his racial brethren, he was small, yet there was something vaguely menacing in the handsome face adorned with a pair of proudly-looking, oversized ears.

“Sons of bitches!” the Chihuahua said energetically, slightly tilting his head. “I am thrilled to welcome you in my humble abode.”

“Abode, my ass,” whispered Inumoto, wagging his tail. “Even a Miniature Schnauzer would be ashamed of calling this hole his home.”

Canis looked at him sternly, then raised his paw and spoke loudly:

“We are travelers, kind sir. We have walked many kilopaws, leaving behind a trail of urine too long to be measured by mere mortals. We seek nothing but a roof over our heads and a few bones to gnaw liberally when dusk throws its magic cape over the material realm. As the great playwright William Shakepaw says, 'Oh beauty, how do I desire you! For chance has left some meat on your white body. Stop, stop, abundant drooling – am I not the master of my fate, a creature of reason?'“

“Well spoken, my friend,” the Chihuahua replied, though looking almost exclusively at the Boxer. “It is, indeed, refreshing to meet a son of a bitch of such literacy in this forgotten corner of Cynia. My name is Don Adolfo Alfonso Perrez, Count of Huesia, at your service.”

“Sorry, what was that? Count Basie?” Inumoto raised his front paw. “Never heard.”

“Kenichi!” Canis whispered reproachfully. “Behave, please!” Then he politely bowed to the Chihuahua and said:

“What a fortuitous occurrence! Just as the Holy Scripture says, in the First Epistle to the Sobakonians by the great Apostle Pawl, Chapter 11, verse 5: 'And when the fleas make your life intolerable, remember that the Gods brought ye light, yet ye chose sin; but persevere, and they will heal your wounds today.”

Perrez bowed too, though seemingly without much enthusiasm, and spoke ironically:

“Always a pleasure to accommodate a holy son of a bitch here. As the Prophet Xiao Gou said, may your fur be long despite all your iniquities. That is a harmless Scripture quote; otherwise, too much horror in those Boxer books for my taste. Poetry must refresh our minds, liberate us from pseudo-ethical prejudices clipping the wings of our national philosophy. Excuse me,” he concluded unexpectedly, raised a hinder paw, and generously peed on the ground.

“National philosophy?” Inumoto asked, surprised and amused at once. “With all due respect, I've never heard of Chihuahuas producing metaphysical essays.”

“Not Chihuahuas,” Perrez said with barely perceptible hostility, putting his paw back on the ground. “Dachshunds.”

Thoughts started uneasily creeping into Canis's head. He heard that the URCD was conquering those forgotten lands to make their dream reality: a unified, strong Cynia, with slick, athletic Dachshunds setting the tone. He recalled loud, colorful leaflets calling for the solution of the “Boxer question”: an unknown politician had earnestly suggested complete extermination of a race so ugly that it offended the new aesthetics. Dachshunds themselves were too stubbornly honest to write something like that; Canis felt a different mind, stuck in a laughably small body, disproportional pride poisoning it day by day. Boxers, the keepers of the Scripture, were under assault for their tenacious adherence to what the modern world discarded as fairy tales. A new order was coming, where there was no longer place for Gods – only sons of bitches.

The rather unconvincing friendly mask fell off Perrez's face quickly. He knew that I knew, Canis understood. Three phlegmatic Dachshunds suddenly appeared behind the Chihuahua, and in the next moment Ben Kelev was caught and tied to a piece of wood in the middle of the yard.

“Hey!” barked Inumoto. “What the hell you think you're doing? This son of a bitch is our friend! So what if he is crazy, saying he's a bloody king and Gods are coming and all that? Gods or no Gods, you can't do whatever you want!” He attempted to bite Perrez's black nose, but missed by half an inch.

“Oh, can't I?” smiled the Chihuahua, while three more Dachshunds were holding Inumoto and Canis in a tight grip. “Your prophecies say a great king is going to sacrifice himself to the Gods for us sons of bitches. Well, if you don't believe that, why do you follow him? He is either right or he is mad; yet you, kind sir, seem to believe the latter! If such is the case, there are no Gods, and no salvation! Sons of bitches rule themselves! Freedom, freedom forever!” He was positively squealing with ecstasy.

Canis saw uncertainty in Inumoto's eyes. The Shiba's sense of justice and his hatred of anything unfair were still there. It's just that those noble sentiments are always a double-edged sword, Canis thought mournfully. Perrez was right in many ways: no one has ever seen the Gods, and Ben Kelev's vague, yet undoubtedly incredible claims were shared only by Canis himself and a handful of other enthusiasts with questionable sanity. Inumoto has followed because he wanted to protect the weak; but the cold ray of reason, the merciless steel of logic conquered a heart unwilling to make a leap of faith.

“Why kill him, though?” mumbled Inumoto, feeling the Dachshunds' grip slackening. “Just let him go, he is harmless…”

“You are mistaken, my friend,” said Perrez softly. “It's either him or us. We are either for him or against him. There is no third way. We let him go, and he'll revive the half-forgotten madness. Once again, sons of bitches will be bound by rules and dogmas. Once again, we shall do the will of unproved Gods rather than our own will! We are strong, we are free, and our mind is mighty! We are done with the meekness of the hideous Boxers, we celebrate beauty, art, our liberated bodies! We are sons of bitches – oh, how proudly doth this sound!”

“Yup,” agreed Inumoto after a short silence. “We're on the same page here, buddy. Strong ain't dangerous; weak is. Took me a while to figure that one out. I'll do the deed myself, pal. Just stay out of my way afterwards, 'cause I still don't like you and your dense servants.”

Perrez nodded to the Dachshunds, who promptly released Inumoto.

“Kenichi!” Canis cried out tearfully.

The Shiba turned to him.

“Sorry, dude,” he said. “I like you, and actually I like him too. But he's insane, man, like, completely nuts, you dig? I said it before, but you weren't listening. I protected him from a crowd of Samoyeds back in Chienville. I stood by him when those angry Mastiffs cursed him in Psograd. But I ain't doing this no more, man. I never believed in Gods – they were invented long time ago to keep us sons of bitches on a short leash. This Ben Kelev guy here is convincing, and if he is right, then it's the end of us all. So I hope he is wrong, but in any case he needs to be silenced. Can't you see that?”

Canis was losing it. Patience was not on the list of his virtues. Too many feelings were suffocating him from within. Tears started flowing from his sad Labrador eyes.

“There are Gods!” he shouted madly. “What are we without them? Wild creatures with no sense of right and wrong! We got everything from them, and we need to stay loyal! It's mean, Kenichi, mean and unfair! We can't betray them!”

“Betray whom?” laughed Inumoto. “Wake up, Retriever! They don't exist! Here, let me show you!”

He started bouncing around the helpless Ben Kelev, inexplicably enraged beyond any reason, beyond his own understanding. He hit Ben Kelev hard on the face with his strong paws, bit his ear with a desperate viciousness.

“See? See?!” he screamed. “If there are Gods, why don't they save him? He is their own pet, isn't he? So why do they let me do it? Why can I still do it? Why am I not punished by your Gods? See, I can now kill him, and nothing will happen! See?!”

“Enough!” shouted Perrez. “We are not challenging those who do not exist! The doubt in your heart, o Shiba, consumes your mind! Blessed is the one whose belief was purged completely by the liberating, proud fire of knowledge! Finish the job!!” he yelled at the Dachshunds, who pushed Inumoto out of the way and began to tear Ben Kelev's body apart with their powerful teeth. The only words the Boxer uttered were rather strange, considering the circumstances. Still alive, still in great pain, Ben Kelev cried out:

“Guys! Have you forgotten me, or what?!”



3100 AD

“Alright, Josh,” Novalis said calmly. “Are you ready?”

Josh laughed nervously.

“Can I ever be?” he said, spreading his arms. “I mean... this is the craziest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

“Maybe that's why it has to happen,” Novalis smiled.

“Maybe that's why it's true,” Men added. “Who said truth had to be plain? A door can only be opened with one particular key, but if you just look at the key without the keyhole it fits, all you'll see is a strange metallic object of an incomprehensible, needlessly complicated shape.”

“Okay, you... philosopher,” Staples said, patting Men's shoulder. “Let's focus here. This operation is the most important event in the history of humanity since –”

“Since the end of the world,” Josh said.

“Right,” Staples agreed. “Since the end of the world. Though maybe we should stop using this outdated terminology. The end of what world, that's the question. Being here feels damn good even when the sea is no more, as they say.”

They all laughed.

“Josh, seriously,” Novalis said. “Be careful. It's not going to be easy. But you have to complete this operation. The only way our friends over there can join us is by changing their very nature. It's been a thousand years, Josh. They have changed... in more ways than one. And we... we still miss them.”

“I know I do,” Staples said seriously.

“So this is how it's going to be,” Novalis continued. “I never imagined it quite like that, but... I knew that nature needed an Anointed One, too. I felt it, I said it, and here it comes. You are going to become a dog, Josh. You are going to feel everything an ordinary dog would. But you'll still be human inside. That's the big difference. Fully human, fully canine – that's the only way. And once your life there ends, the energetic impulse released by your death is going to revitalize the entire planet. You'll be with us again, Josh. And they will be with us too – consciously, ready for what we have here, without coercion, through conviction... and faith.”

“Beautiful speech,” Josh grinned. “But you are coming to pick me up... Right, guys?”

“Of course,” Staples said softly. “One for all, and all for one. Just have some faith, brother. And don't lose hope.”



3153 AD – 1020 CA (Cynian Age)

Flavius Augustus Canis was ready. Years of monastic training have prepared him to face his last moment with calm and dignity – but those were nothing compared to what he had experienced twenty years ago. Faith is a very weird thing. It is like a strong ray of light suddenly illuminating a perpetually dark room – once the initial joy wears off, you begin to realize with horror where you've been all this time without even realizing that. Faith rejuvenates you, but it also shatters you to pieces. You become addicted to this elusive light, can't live without it any more. Having faith alone is not enough. You also need hope, and you need love in spades.

They will all outlive him, Canis thought without bitterness. Dark times are coming. The URCD has begun its campaign of Boxer annihilation. Perrez became the sole Emperor of Cynia, and all sons of bitches were required to worship him as if he were a God. And Inumoto... he hasn't heard of him for a long while. He was still probably wandering there, roaming the Cynian surface, unable to find solace, unrepentant, way too proud of all those things that are bound to crumble to pieces. The ire of Gods, he thought. He disliked that expression when he was young. Why would Gods be angry? What kind of Gods are they if they are mad at you when you make mistakes? Now he knew better. Our folly is such that we curse the Gods no matter if they intervene or not. We are all doomed, Canis thought, unless we believe in what happened.

He didn’t see that with his own eyes. Ben Kelev was allegedly spotted alive by a few not particularly trustworthy individuals only three days after being viciously murdered. Most dismissed that as a pitiful fairy tale – so great was their disappointment as the dark shadow of URCD kept growing and growing in spite of everything. The ecstatic eyewitnesses formed a fellowship Canis joined as well. He believed. He didn't need to touch anything in order to believe – he remembered Ben Kelev, and that was enough. He came to save us. He was the Anointed One, as foretold by the Scripture. And if he wasn't, then what's the use of our faith? What's the meaning of all our lives?

Everything is going to be all right, Canis thought – and died with this thought in his mind.

Only it wasn't really death.

At any rate, it wasn't the end. He didn't know how much time had passed, because the mere concept of time suddenly lost its meaning. He remembered everything, but the memories felt strange, as if they were an interesting, emotionally written book rather than his own experiences. He opened his eyes and looked around in astonishment.

He was in a garden. It was indescribably beautiful. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. A garden, just like the one where the Ancestors lived. He didn't even dare to believe that. Then he heard voices and footsteps. And he knew They were coming. The Gods.

He'd imagined this meeting so many times, but only now he realized how different it was from anything his mind could ever fathom. It was as if he suddenly acquired a new sense, finally became whole, figured out the last and most significant piece of a puzzle, was born again, became different yet remained more himself than ever before... But all those phrases sounded so cliche and empty compared to what he was experiencing. It was natural. And it was real.

A tremendous, blissful, overwhelming emotion, stronger than anything else in the world, possessed his entire being. He raised his snout and happily, loudly barked at the Gods. And Their words – especially the last one, which he instantly understood despite hearing it for the first time – tasted better than the best bone marrow, were sweeter than the loveliest bitch's affection, more soothing and comforting than getting rid of the last flea in his fur:

“Come here, boy! What a good dog!”



Submitted: June 08, 2015

© Copyright 2021 Oleg Roschin. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Hey! I make notes as I read so enjoy haha. I adore the imagery throughout the story it was very well written. It is sad for the sergeant, being completely alone at first but I like how he seems strong about it. That is a lot of pressure to continue humanity and he basically failed it. His world sounds really fancy even though it isn’t working itself out to help itself survive. Does fiat lux mean that;s it buddy? If so I think you need to explain that better. I don’t want to say that I enjoy a man crying, but I enjoy that he is so in touch with his emotions. His legs were dead? That is kind of a strange sentence, maybe say they were broken instead. As a sergeant, shouldn’t he be in the mind set of no man left behind? If so, then he shouldn’t be not wanting to save the dogs. Dogs really are a man’s best friend. I love that he felt happy when they first came out. Is this beforehand, the new chapter? I am kind of confused. So now dogs are talking? Okay so I applaud you for trying this out, but I cant help thinking this is all a bit too cheesy. Kilopaws…lol, William shakepaw…you’re pushing it. interesting names, they are a bit hard to figure out though, are they still on the same planet? Why are they calling each other sons of a bitch so often? On a random note I love boxers haha. They have pretty strict rules here. Honestly I thought that this story was going to be totally different, like a sad man’s best friend story. Ok now onto part 3. Oh…they change into dogs…that makes a bit more sense. Part 4 now. I like what you said about faith that was well written. This ending is interesting. Alright the end was very well done, overall it was weird but it was well written so good job

Tue, June 9th, 2015 1:17am


Thank you for your comments! The central idea of this story is Christian: a fallen world needs salvation. The sentient dogs of Cynia (descendants of the two dogs in the prologue) are an allegory meant to emphasize the ridiculousness of human pride. Their names all mean "dog" in various languages. Ben Kelev (Hebrew for "Son of Dog"; an allusion to Jesus' self-designation as "Son of Man", contrasting with their own way of calling themselves "sons of bitches") is the incarnation of a mysterious human named Josh, who is (presumably) in Paradise or its equivalent alongside three famous Christian thinkers. Whether he is the same person as Jesus Christ or not is an open question.

Fri, June 12th, 2015 11:16am


Beautifully written and extremely clever, this is possibly one of the best pieces I have read. Wonderful job, truly wonderful!

Wed, June 10th, 2015 7:00pm


Thank you so much, Berkley! It's an honor to receive such positive feedback from an excellent writer such as yourself

Wed, June 10th, 2015 12:07pm


You forgot to tell that when Canis awakened (in that distant future that is also long past) in the garden on air was the beginning of the Hammerklavier sonata


Tue, November 17th, 2015 5:28am


Haha, not sure if a dog would appreciate Beethoven's masterpiece, but sure, why not :-)

Also, it IS a distant future when Canis awakenes. Canis lives in 52nd century AD, so it's at least that far ahead! :)

Wed, November 18th, 2015 9:22pm


the beginning of the last movement of it, I meant*

Tue, November 17th, 2015 5:29am

dave kavanagh

Enjoyable parable for our times. The redundancy of religion. I love notion of two mongrels back breeding to pedigree in 300 years ( or possibly 45 years if we divide by 7) the resultant rise in religion and racism mimicking the worst aspects of the dead world from which they came. The idea that all evolved creatures are programmed to make thr same mistakes. On the down side i felt as a short story not enough was left to the imagination (silly gripe perhaps) I felt it took a little to long for the real story to reveal itself but all in all a great write

Fri, February 12th, 2016 12:34pm


Thank you for your comment, Dave, I really appreciate it! I have to say, however, that my intention was not at all to show the redundancy of religion; on the contrary, the "Nazi" ideology of Perrez is profoundly anti-religious in its rejection of anything higher than the dogs themselves. Also, I don't think that the dogs of Cynia were programmed to sin - it was their free choice to become what they'd become. By the way, 3000 years (not 300) passed between Nahum Horshan's release of canine "Adam and Eve" and the arrival of the fully human, fully canine Anointed One :-)

Fri, February 12th, 2016 5:21am

Cory Hutton

A lot of the dialogue you achieve in not just this story, but your follow-up are extremely fluent and natural. You style of dialogue is the exact type I've been striving to achieve. Congrats on your work and keep it up!!

Fri, April 29th, 2016 11:23pm


Thank you very much for your kind feedback, Cory! Glad you read both of those closely connected stories, this one and "The Inquisitor". My dialogue is extremely messy stylistically, especially in this story... but it does kind of come out naturally :-))

Fri, April 29th, 2016 8:05pm


Is Nahum the Sergeant responsible for freeing the dogs that populated Cynia? Interesting how you choose the breed of dog to go with the personality. Couldn't help noticing that some of the smallest breeds were the meanest and most powerful.

Sat, April 30th, 2016 8:09pm


Well, Nahum has freed the two dogs he has brought with him from Earth, and those dogs became the ancestors of all the others. So, in a way, he has created the inhabitants of Cynia!

I have an ambiguous feeling towards dogs... I'm a cat person though and through; but it's easy with cats, they are all adorable. With dogs, I find myself loving certain breeds (retrievers, for example) even more than cats, while others (yes, chihuahuas...) make me feel indifferent at best. Indeed, I like large breeds much more than small ones... It's precisely due to this ambiguity that I decided to use dogs as metaphoric humans.

I apologize to all chihuahua lovers that the Christ-killer in this story is a representative of that breed. I hope that wasn't too racist :-)

Sun, May 1st, 2016 8:34pm

Jack M

Very cleverly written piece with a really intriguing, unique plot. I literally laughed out loud at 'Kilopaws' and 'William Shakepaw'. Well done!


Mon, May 2nd, 2016 12:46am


Hahaha, glad you liked it, Jack! Always appreciate your kind feedback. I really went overboard with dog puns this time, didn't I? :-))

Sun, May 1st, 2016 7:51pm

D. Thurmond aka JEF

Just had to read the predecessor. A real clever read with just the right amount of humor. Very nice...

Wed, May 11th, 2016 6:11pm


Thank you for reading! Balancing humor with a serious message was one of the hardest tasks for this story...

Wed, May 11th, 2016 8:46pm


Oleg, I am so blown away by this story, and your amazing and original writing technique, style, and content. None of your work has ceased to draw me in, keep my attention, and amaze me - despite being outside of my typical genre. However, I suppose you have sort of created your own, here! I've never read anything like this concept, other than your entries to my contests. Let me start off by mentioning how captivating your attention to the fine details of the reality your characters live in is. With every sly play-on-words, every little detail mentioned but not over-explained, and every hint of imagery and history you consume the reader with this unique universe. It all is just so well-developed! Do you keep these terms, like kilopaw, aside or does it come to you while writing? Well done! A very well-crafted and well-developed world that makes for a gripping story environment. Speaking of well-crafted and well-developed: your characters! You've really given characteristics to each of the dogs in your story that are believable and consistent. The ending here and comparison of Humankind to Gods leaves so much to be reflected upon, and the themes you have incorporated here (religion, war, spirituality, etc) are so metaphorical together, and how you have used them... readers can really read deeply in to this concept and world! My only spotted errors were barely errors at all - more, awkward sentencing which is the only piece of critiquing I could muster up. As noted in my icomments, phrases like "... scratched his left ear with his right hinder paw." are difficult to imagine and snag the reader momentarily while trying to envision or understand them. Aside from this, a well-written and captivating story. Thank you for inviting me to read!

Thu, June 9th, 2016 8:20pm


You are too kind, Rae, and I'm very grateful for your long and insightful reviews, I feel honored!

I've put a lot of thought into this particular story, since it was the first one I wrote following a six-year hiatus (the three bottom stories of my portfolio were written in 2009). I'm so glad you liked it, because many people found it too complicated and confusing to enjoy, causing me to gravitate towards a lighter style in some of my later stories.

The puns here just came to me as I was writing, and I think I overdid them somewhat... :-)

Thu, June 9th, 2016 10:42pm

Tom Smith

This story amazed me, a very well written and unique piece of work. The work was also very clever and intriguing, well done!

Sun, September 4th, 2016 3:46pm


Thank you very much for your kind comment!

Wed, September 7th, 2016 8:53pm

MKT Maindhan

good thought and touching

Tue, December 20th, 2016 2:51am


Thank you!

Mon, December 19th, 2016 10:37pm

Alex S. Foley

good story.

Sun, July 16th, 2017 3:09pm



Sun, July 16th, 2017 10:47am


First of all, are you that into dogs and poetry? (Just kidding). Well, I guess it's something we're familiar with that makes our performance better, right? Anyway, I like the way you arrange this piece of writing. I suppose it made the topics you writing (freedom, civilization, and faith) better delivered. It's also so emotional and beautifully written, especially at the first part when the Sergeant was dying. You described it so...heart-wrenching. However, I wonder if the guy was too pessimistic. I mean I think everyone would feel a glimmer of hope even if they're dying, even if they don't really believe it. I think he should have some hope about someone saving him? I just had an idea that maybe those two dogs he released could be a great symbol of hope or something.
Also, with you separating the piece into time periods, I'm kinda lost with humans and dogs both in it. I'm never really good at remembering lots of character names, especially when there are also dog breeds involved. I know what they look like, but I can't just seem to put their names to the faces. Do you know what I mean?
Anyhow, I like your style of writing and it was good. Really good.

Thu, August 24th, 2017 1:57pm


Thank you very much! :-)

Thu, August 24th, 2017 7:45am


Did you really need help with this? It looks like you already have a ton of experience writing. Anything wrong I can pick out with this would, for the most part, be personal preference. The word choice and detailed paragraphs really are enthralling but would turn away newer reader who are looking for something a lot more simple especially since most of the readers that would read this come just because they saw the word dogs. If you are trying to draw in a large crowd dumb it down a little otherwise it's perfect as is. Everything is detailed and you even cover yourself when you are not confident about something.

Sat, August 26th, 2017 2:42am


Thank you for your kind and insightful feedback, Wyn! This was actually only the fourth short story I ever wrote, and the first after a six-year hiatus. I was full of new ideas at the time and crammed a lot of them into this story. Your comment confirms what I've been thinking about this story myself - it is too complex for its own sake. Perhaps I should have made two stories out of it. Some readers told me that the jump 1000 years ahead, from two Earth dogs to a multitude of their sentient descendants, was jarring; many were also confused by the sudden introduction of several characters and being taken to the "Jesus story" without any preparation. In particular, I think that the third part, which reveals Ben Kelev's (Jesus's) human (divine) original, though hugely important to the story, confuses it even more for many readers.

Fri, August 25th, 2017 9:51pm

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