The Dog Man

By S. T. Broeckx

Weston, The Dog Man, rounds the corner from his apartment, where his seven dogs shit and piss on his veranda that lacks a drain. He claims it doesn’t smell bad.

“People just don’t understand,” he says, riding a bike specially outfitted with racks to carry his multitude of dogs. “I am so worried about you, Sparkles.”

“Hey, Stan!”

“Hi…Wes…” Stan says apprehensively. Trapped.

Weston’s eyes glaze over and spin slightly. “Sparky has a hurt leg he got from a fight with Mr. Jangles, Tinsy has had bad diarrhea, Judy is now pregnant, Bob has skin lesions, Steve lost his balls…”