Still at the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe

Seen a man carrying a dead dog.

Dawn and I were walking to work along Mass Ave. We were somewhere between Lincoln Park and Stanton Park, I don’t remember exactly which block. We saw walking toward us a man carrying a dog. And at first I smiled at how the dog was being silly, hanging his head down like that. It made me think of how dogs like to stick their heads out of car windows and feel the breeze on their faces.

But then I noticed the really grim set of this guy’s face as he walked. And then I noticed that that dog’s head wasn’t moving at all. And you could see blood in its open mouth.

A woman was walking a number of paces ahead of us, and he passed by her first, then passed by us. The woman took a few steps and then slowed down and then turned around to us stunned. She tried to mouth some words but nothing came out. We just kind of nodded to her, understanding and feeling the same way.

The image of that guy haunts me all day. The way he was cradling the dog. It was some sort of spaniel. I imagined at first that he was out walking it and it got off the leash and it ran into the road and got hit. But then later I think that it couldn’t have happened so soon before we saw him, that I don’t know how he could have been holding himself together like that, even though it looked like he was just barely holding himself together. I imagine all sorts of scenarios leading up to what little we witnessed.

That poor man, I say to Dawn later. The poor dog, she says.