Excerpts from
Master my Dog in the Night
By Thomas Winding
One evening when we were sitting in front of
the television, my little dog Master gave a deep sigh.
He tucked his nose between his paws, closed his
eyes, and said:
"These are very hard times we're living
in." "Do you really think so? Has something on television upset
you?"
"Television?" Master was annoyed.
"Who cares about television? Oh, no, this is something real! And you know
very well what I'm thinking about."
"No, I don't believe I do. What are you
thinking about?"
"I'm thinking that you'll soon be going to
bed and then I'll be left all alone in my basket. "
"Yes, that's
right, and Pm not going to get into your basket."
"Who asked you to? There are plenty of
places where we can sleep," said Master. "But you never want to talk
about that."
He's right there. I really don't want him
sleeping on my bed; especially not now he's got fleas.
"We
have discussed that subject."
"Exactly," said Master. "That's
just what I mean: a dog isn't supposed to have much to say in this house."
A few hours later Master scratching at my
bedroom door waked me up.
"What's
the matter?" I asked.
"Do
you want to know how I am?" "Can't it wait till morning?"
"How can something you are feeling now
wait till morning?"
I got up and opened the door to the living~
room. It was dark, but the moon was shining in through the window, and Master
was sitting in the streak of light.
"Now,
what's up?" I said.
"Can't you see? Can't you see how I
am?" 'Are you feeling rotten? Are you ill?"
"Can't you see what I need? Nobody talks
to me, nobody pats me, and nobody gives me anything to eat... I'm a lonely
little dog in the night."
"Would it cheer you up if I told you a
story?"
"Can a story warm you when you're
freezing? Can a story feed you when you're starving?"
"Yes, I think so. In any case, I'm not
serving anything but stories at this time of night." "If you're
right," said Master, "prove it!"
| 
