“I was really sad and got really stressful because the other day my father got really drunk in the morning and told me that our dogs were dead”
Her father works a night job (although I’m not sure what it is exactly and she hasn’t volunteered the information). Her family had moved from a house near the mountains of Seoul to a more urban apartment a few weeks ago, and since they didn’t have any room for them, they sent the dogs to a relative living in the countryside. These days, she gets puppy dog eyes anytime we walked past a pet store and often spontaneously blubbers, “Buy me a dog please!”
“He was really drunk and really angry at my relative. He really loved the dogs. He didn’t tell us before, but then was drunk so told us that they were both dead.
“So how did the dogs die?”
“One was looking for my father. He was lost for a long time. My relative lives near a lake. And he fell in the water.”
“The dog couldn’t swim?”
“Maybe could. But in the water for a long time. No one could find him. And so he died. It was too long of a time.”
“Maybe could. But in the water for a long time. No one could find him. And so he died. It was too long of a time.”
She didn’t continue, and since the story was so sad, I didn’t feel right prying. But we both knew the story wasn’t finished. After a few two many knowing head nods and sad looks, I quietly venture:
“And the other one?”
She looked at me, then quickly to the side and back at me, visibly debating with herself what to tell me and how to tell me in English. Finally, she just conceded to the inevitable.
“My relative… ate him.”
My demeanor instantly switched from concerned parent to 14-year-old boy. I was laughing hysterically. Thankfully, the comic timing wasn’t completely lost on her either, and she started laughing with me. After calming down, I had another quite obvious question:
“Why did your relative eat your dog?”
“I don’t know. Just wanted to eat it I think. He sent a leg to my grandparents and his cousins.”
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