A Complete List of Dogs I Have Killed So Far

by: Haoma

1
once, i was walking back to my mud hut late at night (it was night time) and a dog
attacked me with his sharp teeth. the teeth wanted to slice and dice my arms and perhaps
torsothat is to say the dog controlling the teeth had this murderous intentionand the dog
barked several times in an extremely dangerous way. to make a long story short, when the dog
lunged towards me, teeth first, i swung my crab arm at it in a circular motion. (to specify, that is
my left arm.) actually, my whole body did a 360-degree spin with my crab arm acting like a
hammer or some other blunt weapon. or i guess it was more like what happens in a washing
machine. anyways, to sum it up: the dog was instantly knocked way the fuck down on the
ground.
i thought to myself, "it's fairly fucking possible the dog just stands right back up and fires
its teeth at me again, possibly even at my torso." in a split second, i fired my knees at the ground
next to the dog. when my knees made contact, i grabbed the dog by his throat and squeezed out
the life in him, before his teeth could tear me up. he coughed, and wheezed, and i think was not
breathing correctly due to my strangling actions, and finally, perished. he looked me in the eyes
for a brief instant, as if asking, "why are you currently strangling me?" to answer, i just looked
down at his teeth, and then back in his eyes, as if to say, "to protect myself from your teeth." at
that moment, there was a deep understanding between us. i buried the dog on top of a pile of
garbage and lit the dog and garbage on fire with a piece of fire.

2
by march, i had upgraded my mud hut. the mud hut was now constructed of some kind
of tree material, that is, i had killed some trees with a kind of thick knife (i do not know exactly
what that is called) and put the tree bodies in stacks to mimic mud. now at this new mud hut
there was another dog who sometimes wanted to purchase or more likely steal the food i had
accumulated and stored there to nourish myself.
to distinguish this dog from the previous dog, who was now very much dead and burnt to
smithereens: his dog was a different dog. this second, alive dog, hereafter referred to as the dog,
also had dangerous teeth but for whatever reason the creator decided to endow him with more
control over his teethor, let's saya more developed capacity for reason and as such a greater
restraint from employing the dangerous teeth.
one day (it was day time), i returned home from dicing up vines (the purpose for which i
will elaborate later in the narrative do not forget this detail!) and witnessed the dog burrowing
his body into my upgraded mud hut. i say burrowing to reinforce the malicious intentions this
dog had toward me, my food, and my upgraded mud hut, but in reality there was no actual
"burrowing" per se; the walls were of a dead tree materials and the floor, well... the floor was
mud and could be burrowed into quite easily to be completely honest, but the dog was not
burrowing into it at this point in time. the dog had entered through some other means, which is
beyond the scope of this narrative.
catching the dog red-handed, his gelatinous eyes fixed on my stored food, i decided to
destroy his life before his teeth could rip apart my condensed milk, or maybe my torso if his
mood changed. (there was also the potential he could fall haphazardly onto the floor from old
age and afterward have to be cleaned up.) this time i had a medium-sized knife, which i used to
dice vines (ring a bell?) in my right, non-crab arm; that is to say, my hand. this knife i used to
dispatch the dog.

3
there comes a moment in every dog's life when it must decide between being destroyed
and later incinerated by me or not firing its goddamn dangerous teeth at me in a completely
outrageous, murderous way. to be fair, i do not know if every dog needs to make this decision,
but i am 100% positive at least 2 dogs thus far had done so, and until evidence can be provided
to the contrary (burden of proof, etc.) i maintain that this characteristic decision identifies not
just 1 or 2 dogs, but all dogs, and maybe even indians.
not long after I had slain the second dog, a third dog crossed my path. i use this
expression in its most literary sense in that there was a path in front of my highly upgraded mud
hut that i considered mine as far as any object or idea can be attributed to or owned by an
individual in this world. and one evening (it was neither day nor night, i cannot think of a more
accurate way to describe this complicated state), a dog crossed it. to the credit of dogs
everywhere, this third dog was as close to being my friend as i could comfortably imagine, due to
the fact that this dog had lost its teeth in some kind of accidenta misfire, if you willat some
previous time and in some distant location.
as to whether his teeth were lost in an act of aggression or perhaps even a stroke of
misfortune, i cannot say. but as you may suspect, given my prior experience with dogs, i still did
not trust his intentions. dogs without teeth are, in a very tangible way, harmless, but as one very
famous president once said: "trespassing is as much of a crime as biting."
due to our more intimate relationship, this third dog i decided to punish for attacking my
path by causing it to drown it in a river. i fashioned a net out of a material excellent for making
nets, snared the beast, and tossed him into the drink. in retrospect, i cannot confirm if this dog
died immediately, or farther downriver, or even at all. i can conclude, however, that i lost
forevermore my hudson trail outfitters brand woven microfiber hunting net, and can only
assume some murderous indian and/or dog recovered it from the river and has some terrible
designs in store for me.

4
in december of the previous year, before i had killed a dog by method of strangulation,
and before i had killed a dog by method of dispatching it with a knife, and before i had (possibly)
killed a dog by method of throwing him in a river, a fourth dog engaged me, if in this moment we
are counting dogs sequentially and backward in time, starting at that moment previously
described in which an entirely harmless but trespassing dog almost certainly drowned in a river
not far from a complicated, then-reinforced mud hut structure that was, at that time, my home.
this fourth dog (who was the first dog, really, in time) engaged me through the crystal
pane of a sturdy car window. and yet the danger that radiated from the beast was in no way
diminished by the seemingly indestructible plane of glass that contained itfor the moment
anywayat a relatively short distance from me in space. i could not hear this dog's teeth
mashing, nor smell its teeth or surrounding organs. and i certainly could not touch its dangerous
body. (my first tactile encounter with a dog came later; see: the strangling.)
although it is true that i could see the animal due to the transparency of the window and
if we are counting senses (and i will assume we are), it would not be an exaggeration to say that i
could also sense this fourth dog and its murderous attitude toward me in the sixth-sensory way
that, looking back at it now, really quite accurately embodied the attitude that all dogs would
thenceforth express towards me, my food, and the path near my mud hut (at all stages of
upgrades and modification). i conclude that this painful first encounter left a deep impression
on me and was no less violentat least not explicitly sothan my future encounters with dogs
and functioned as a perfect example of what scholars and educated indians often call
"foreshadowing."