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Beside a lonely hamlet a dog is barking, chained to a post in a
barren field. It is an evening time. The sky is red, strewn with
streaks of blood of the dying day. The dog lets out a howl, born
out of despair and futility of his life.   He hates his owner
for enslaving him. He hates the flesh, which he has to devour
each day to appease his hunger. He hates killings of other
creatures to satisfy his lust for flesh, only just to perpetuate
his existence. He hates his futile barking all day along.  A
dark wind rose within his bowls and slowly winded up his belly
like a python; crushing his entrails, passing through his heart
and reaching his throat. He lets out another howl of anguish.
The sound reverberated among the hills and other small creatures
shared that anguish.  He was beyond hope from human kind. Beyond
his bestial nature, he longed for some sort of comfort, for a
little warmth .He searched for small kindness or tenderness but
alas he could