Fumiko Hayashi - The Beautiful Dog

Distant winds swept in from the north. It was a fierce blizzard. A thin veneer of ice masked the lake; naturally, not a soul was out boating.

The pet was down by the shore of the lake where he had been barking for some time. The pet was a stray. Mr. Morris was his owner, but now he lived alone on the porch of Mr. Morris' cottage. When the pet first arrived at the cottage on the banks of Lake Nojiri, his coat was lustrous and his build, sturdy.

Unfortunately, Mr. Morris returned with his family to America during the war. The pet was sold to the owner of a hardware shop in Kashihara. But in about a week, the chain holding him snapped, and the pet escaped and returned to Nojiri. There he became the pet of Mr. Gavrysh, a white Russian and a neighbor of Mr. Morris. But at the end of the war, Mr. Gavrysh moved to Yokohama with his family.

The pet parted from Mr. Gavrysh and no longer had food. He lost his once beautiful fur and sunk into life as a stray dog on the banks of Lake Nojiri.

The pet was a Pointer, a big, brown dog. His beloved owner was gone, as was Mr. Gavrysh. His previous life with rules and fun had vanished. Each passing day sapped his body of strength.

Winter came. In their old home in Azabu, Tokyo, Mr. Morris kept the pet near the stove. Later, even at Nojiri, Mr. Gavrysh always let the pet sleep near the stove during the winter. But the war ended. All the people loved by the pet were gone. This was the first winter the pet had to live a truly miserable life.

Some evacuees remained in a few of the cottages, but not one kindhearted person took care of the pet. Once in a while, the pet walked around the town of Nojiri to peek through the kitchen doors of the houses and beg for food. He looked at them with eyes filled with compassion, but they shooed the pet away without a morsel to eat.

The pet spent each day foraging for food.

Around the end of autumn, an unfamiliar Jeep drove into the neighborhood of cottages at Nojiri. The visitor was an American soldier who came to Lake Nojiri to go boating. The pet ran toward the Jeep as he mused over meeting this person who resembled Mr. Morris after such a long time. Still in the Jeep, the soldier whistled when he saw the pet and tossed him a biscuit.

The pet was ecstatic and leaped to the hands of the soldier. How many years had passed since the pet had been treated to a tasty biscuit? As he romped with the soldier, his tail wagged so furiously, it looked to be on the verge of breaking off.

The pet was filled with joy.

Eventually, the day came to an end. The soldier was only on shore leave from his ship, so he climbed into his Jeep and returned to town.

The pet ran after the Jeep until it disappeared from view. After losing sight of the Jeep, his spirit was drained. The pet thought he should return to the porch although Mr. Morris was no longer there, and grieved all the way home.

Winter came soon. The nights were cold, and, for some reason, the pet slept under the garbage. Nonetheless, the pet was determined and sought out food each day. Once in a while, a doctor named Honda fed the pet, but he too moved to Tokyo. As it grew colder, almost all of the evacuees were gone. The deserted neighborhood of dilapidated cottages resembled a no man's land.

The pet broke through the rotted floorboards to enter the room where long ago Mr. Morris often read books. He went to a corner of the room, curled up, and fell asleep.

By this time, the pet had grown old. His teeth had fallen out, and his legs were wobbly. He no longer had the spirit to carry on through another winter.

The pet never understood, even a little, why Mr. Morris had abandoned him, but he held onto the happy memories. Sometimes, the pet became nostalgic remembering the summer evenings when Mr. Morris tossed him scraps of delicious meat from the table on the porch while a record played on a portable player.

In the morning, Mr. Morris' wife poured milk over oatmeal and placed it in front of the doghouse. They took this doghouse when they moved to Kashihara, but no pet lives there now.

Snow came to Nojiri. The lake froze and was slowly covered by a cold, thin crust of ice. No longer able to bear the loneliness, each evening, the pet went down to the shoreline to howl at the water. The running around and howling warmed him a little....

On a rare nice day, the pet chased a small bird and brought his catch back to Mr. Morris' cottage. He devoured the bird, even crushing the bones. A whiff of the discarded, rusted cans for canned food reminded the pet of the scent of Mr. Morris.

The snow deepened burying the woods and the cottages, like a white folding screen had been erected around the lake.

A severe storm began that evening, and snow steadily fell. The pet was chilled to his core. He ran to the lake, looked out at the frozen water, and howled. In the darkness encircling him, the snow burst around him like a whirlwind of starch.

The pet had not eaten a thing since morning. He searched for food as far as Okubo-machi, but found nothing. He looked for a field mouse as he usually did, but no mouse came out in the deep snow.

Not too long after the pet went down to the shore to bark, his rear legs started to hurt and he collapsed on the snow. The pet wished for warm milk to drink.

Why did so many people go away this winter? Once in a while, he found a cottage with people, but they would just chase him away with a stick.

The pet returned to Mr. Morris' cottage dragging his legs behind him and ducked into his usual place under the floor.

The room was pitch black. The broken glass door rattled from time to time as snow blasted into the room. Before long, he could dimly see in the dark room in the faint snow light.

The pet went up to the second floor. A wide bed stuffed with straw was beside the window. He dragged himself under the bed.

From time to time, the pet pointed his snout toward the window and barked at the raging snow, but the winds mixed with snow hitting the window did not subside, even a little.

The pet was so sad he wanted to cry.

A curtain cord teeming with spider webs dangled from the ceiling. For a time, the pet gnawed on the cord.

As he gnawed, the pet lost consciousness. He had a vision of five beautiful colors like a candle shimmering in his fleeting sight.

The snow blowing into the room took the shape of an angel, like a small butterfly, who wrapped her arms around the pet's body. The pet felt wonderful. Memories slipped into the pet's head. He remembered the time Mr. Morris smoked his big pipe as he played the piano, and the time Mr. Morris taught him to jump as the warm summer sun beamed down on them.

From time to time, she said in the voice of a goddess, "Dear pet, you cannot sleep now. Take heart. Spring is coming. Hold on just a little longer."

The pet was overcome by a pleasant drowsiness.

Spring arrived and Mr. Morris came back to Japan from America as a lieutenant. He soon went to Nojiri, but his appearance surprised the owner of a hardware shop in Kashihara. The shop owner's wife gathered cleaning supplies and went with her older son to Mr. Morris' cottage.

When they unlocked the door and went up to the second floor, they saw the pet under Mr. Morris' bed. He was a shadow of what he once was. The pet had died from starvation. He had decomposed very little and was lying on his side as if in a peaceful slumber.

Tears were shed by the wife still holding the bucket as she lamented, "Oh my, the pet came to this place." The wife looked at the devoted pet that never forgot his master's home and felt true sorrow.