Out Back

Lilith is a good dog, I love her very much. In Siberia, she hunts for us, helps feed us. She has all the space she needs. She’s part of the family. One day we move to Minsk, though, into an apartment. It’s too small, even for us. There’s no need for hunting in the capital. But we don’t leave anyone behind. Not anyone.

Lilith comes along. She takes to apartment life well enough, doesn’t whine, loves her walks, stays patient. But I’m just a babe. I don’t know any better. We play together one day. She’s bigger than me. I try to ride her.

A warning growl, a flash of fang, a burst of pain, a spray of red; old instincts die hard.

I get better in the end. The bite barely leaves a mark.

Lilith gets taken out back, never to be seen again.