“It is hard to make friends around here. It is just the sort of place this is. People are rather open to strangers, but not to one another. No matter what the relationship that people have during the day, when the night comes the doors close tight and the shades are drawn. Outsiders are welcome, but our neighbors are not to be trusted. It can be lonely, so shortly after coming here I got a dog to keep me company.
His name is Ureal. When it comes to dogs, I prefer the larger breeds. Even a kind dog is enough to drive most people away if it is large enough. a place like this, such a thing is valuable. So when I went to make my choice, I picked Saint Bernard from a nearby pound. I do not know why he had such a strange name, but what interested me immediately was his age. He was three years old.
I know that older dogs aren't adopted as much. People want puppies, something they will grow up with. But I don't care about stuff like that. He was very friendly, and came up to me right away. He obviously had some training, but that was about all the good that could be said about the previous owner. He was missing patches of fur and seemed to have a slight limp. However, the thing that stood out most was his eye; he only had one.
I was told he had been abused, that his previous owner had been crazy. I didn't need to hear much to know what happened. I had already made up my mind. Within a couple of minutes I had filled out the paperwork, and within a week he had become part of my flat.
Months passed, and I became used to coming home to him. When night closed in, him and I would sit down on the couch while I would work on my writing. It was nice having him around, when the nights became quiet. The only thing peculiar about him, besides the missing eye, was the way he sometimes would just stare off into space, for sometimes upwards of a half an hour.