Deader Than Dead
Published in Issue #35 Translated from Russian by Lena Mandel subscribe to unlock the full storyAt 120 kilometers an hour, one cigarette lasts for slightly more than three kilometers. I am on my second pack. That would amount to a carton and a half if I drive nonstop. But I’d have to stop eventually, to eat and to pee. Besides, I don’t know how long the border crossing will take. I need to calm down and take reasonable breaks; otherwise, my stash won’t last. And my mouth already tastes like a trashcan.
We packed in a hurry. Of course, there had been rumors that all dogs would be drafted, but I refused to believe it until the end. My Pepper’s breed was wrong (ridiculous even to imagine); besides, he had no training at all. He even “shakes hands” only when he feels like it. And now—bam!—a military summons.
“In accordance with the ‘Act on the Responsible Treatment of Animals’ and the ‘Act on Obligatory Military Service,’ you are summoned to appear, together with the dog, pepper, registered in your name, at the conscription center at Veterinary Clinic No. 17.”
For some reason, I was particularly struck that they didn’t even bother to capitalize Pepper’s name.
The summons was for the next day, so there was no time to dither. A bag of dog food, some bowls, a couple of items of clothing, computer, chargers, documents. Looking for Pepper’s passport, I came across a folder of family documents, so I took that along as well.
In the eighties, some guy called, claiming he wanted to...
Subscribe now to keep reading
Please enter your email to log in or create a new account.