Short Fable on Freedom

A man and a dog walk together through a park at night. The dog walks confidently in front, looking back ever so often. The animal can't understand that the tightness of the metal leash binds it to the man and wherever one goes, so goes the other.

The walk continues, the dog sniffing some lampposts, urinating against them, then walking some more, sniffing a wall, urinating against it. After every sniff a look at the man, looking for his silent, dispassionate approval.

Coming into an area with thick brushes, the man spots a cat moving stealthily among the shadows. He knows that his dog will chase any cats it sees, so he pulls the leash to distract it.

It's too late.

The dog launches into a mad dash in pursuit of the cat, the man's wrist caught in the loop of the leash, dragging him behind. The dog storms through the brush, cuttings its cheeks on the thorny plant but ignoring the injuries in its single-minded chase. The man tries to take a detour around the thorny brush, but there's not enough slack on the leash to do so - his clothes, shins, hands are riddled with blood by the time he comes through the other side.

Man and beast run after the cat, which by now is in full flight across the lawn, zigzagging to throw off its pursuers. There are no trees or walls for the cat to climb, and the longer limbs of the chasers give them the advantage in an open field like this.

They go over a hill and are now very near the park's exit when the cat notices a place to hide - a telephone box. The door is only slightly ajar, certainly wide enough for the cat to sneak through, but not big enough for the dog or the man. The cat jumps in, taking the corner opposite to the door and arching its back and hissing to scare off the dog and the man.

The dog doesn't understand how to open the door and looks back at its owner, who opens the door completely. The dog enters the booth slowly and faces the cat. The moment it had been waiting for is now here, but it doesn't know what to do. Its instincts always told it to chase cats, or any other small animal who ran away, but, facing for the first time its prey, it is paralysed.

The dog stares at the cat, then back at the man who stands motionless, assessing the damage from going through the brush. The cat hisses, the dog barks - it's a stand-off.

The man sucks the blood from a deep scratch in his hand and then smacks the dog across the muzzle. The dog takes a step back, tail between its legs. The man approaches the cat, which claws pointlessly at his thick trousers. He raises his boot and brings it down on the cat's arched back, crushing it. A few more stomps and the meowing stops.

The man pats the dog's rump and it goes into the booth, snatching the cat on its mouth.

The walk resumes, the dog proudly displaying its master's kill as if it were its own.