It seems I can talk to dogs in my dreams, though it's only with our old family dog. Whenever I sleep in the same room as him, I feel like I end up chatting with him. "Hey, youngster, still haven't found a girlfriend?" "Shut up, old man. I don't want to hear that from a neutered dog." "Brat. Do you know the pain of losing your manhood?" "No idea." "Well, I'll teach you then." "Hold on, calm down, old timer." "Oh, the delivery guy is here." "Seriously? I'm getting up, then." That was our most recent conversation. The day before yesterday. My memory isn't great, so I didn't remember all of it. And right when I woke up, the doorbell rang and the Kuroneko delivery service was there.
I know more about the neighborhood than anyone around me realizes. There was a time when I accidentally let slip something the old dog told me, which exposed the fact that a neighbor had been fired, and it caused a huge mess. I know everything that happens while I'm away at college, and since he's just a dog, I guess nobody guards their secrets around him.
I think I started understanding him around my second year of high school. I came home from club activities, fell asleep on the tatami mat, and he spoke to him. I get that he's old, but being called "youngster" feels a bit weird. Everyone says it's just my imagination, though.
It's the Kansai region. I feel like the old dog speaks in an old man's dialect that's pretty close to standard Kansai Japanese. The reason I mix in a weird amount of standard Japanese in my half of the conversation is that it changed a bit after I started university. He even pointed that out to me back then. "Hey youngster, do you know?" "Know what?" "That big guy diagonally across the street, you know the one." "Mr. Tanaka (pseudonym)?" "Yeah, yeah. That guy's suspicious." "Why's that?" "I saw him over at Mashino Town (pseudonym) after he left the house in the morning." "That's fine, isn't it? He might've been working." "No way. I've been watching him for the past four days, and something's off." "...Now that you mention it, if he's been leaving the house without eating lunch lately, was he being a peeping tom?" "Don't put it like that. You're leaving me behind to go to university, too. Let's wait and see for a while."
Then, about a month later, he spoke to me again. "Youngster. I figured it out." "What is it?" "That big guy diagonally across the street seems to have lost his job." "Seriously?" "He's just sitting around doing nothing all day. That's a sure sign." "Huh. Makes sense." "You mustn't end up like that."
That very evening, while having dinner with my mom, I accidentally let it slip. "I heard Mr. Tanaka (pseudonym) got fired or something." "Is that so!? Oh my, really~? How awful~" We had a conversation like that. About the next week, my mom said to Mr. Tanaka's wife with full of good intentions, "I heard your husband lost his job? How terrible... I'll help you out with whatever I can!" The wife had no idea, and that night, angry voices and shouting echoed back and forth.
Everyone seemed to enjoy it, which makes both me and the old dog happy, but when people ask for stories, there really aren't that many... I guess the reason is that it's pretty much no different from lazily chatting with an old man. Although sometimes I do think, "Ah, this old man is a dog after all." Like when he tells me, "I want to eat meat." Honestly, the "job-loss revelation incident" is pretty much the only thing worth writing about. If I could see ghosts, that'd make good material... but unfortunately, he's just a normal dog. Above all, why do I keep dreaming of talking to a dog every time?
Recently, though, I made an unexpected discovery. This is for people who own dogs. You know that dog treat called "Honeko"? It's about that. "Youngster." "What?" "I hate to complain about the food you give me every time, but—" "Yeah." "I want bones. I don't want the fake ones." "Ah, Honeko?" "I don't know what it's called, but the one I ate yesterday." "Ah, yeah, that's Honeko." "That Honeko thing, it feels kind of sad, so I'd like you to switch to real ones." "Hmm. But you were eating it happily, weren't you?" "It's more like I can't help biting into it, but even so, I feel tricked and empty inside." "Is that so? But aren't we humans kinda like that too?" "Is that right? You guys always look like you're eating all sorts of delicious things." "Nah, fake stuff is pretty common for us too, like imitation crab." "What on earth is that?" "Food that looks like crab, but is actually fish." "Hhm. Youngster. Do you eat that often?" "Pretty often. When I get a little hungry." "Hhm. Everyone's got their own struggles, huh. I'll endure it." "Well, I wouldn't call it a 'struggle' exactly... but I'll mention it to my mom." "I'd appreciate that."
So apparently Honeko feels hollow to him. Please give them real bones whenever possible. I think it varies from dog to dog, though... Chicken bones are a no-go, obviously.
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