Frontline Cologne

A burly chested man wearing a black leather jacket with a large German Shepherd walked towards me on the grounds of a closed down school on the outskirts of town. His face was stern and hidden by a thick beard. "My dog likes you" he said unprovoked. Feeling the need to reciprocate the supposed affection of this 90-pound beast, I fell to one knee and stretched out the back of my hand. Shaken from my slothful rut, the beast lunged straight past my hand and pushed me onto my back. Both paws either side of my ribcage, his hot panting breath on my face, the beast stood over me and he smiled down into my eyes. Was this a display of dominance or just youthful hubris? Could he sense my fear? Because it was rushing through my veins at this point, a rare moment of childlike vulnerability. The beast began to lick my face and neck with his coarse tongue. "Welcome to the house of courage" the burly-chested-man bellowed. I had heard of the house of courage in relation to wrestling before. "Thank you" I said with a wry smile on my face and shit in my pants. I pushed the beast away from me, gathered myself and clambered to my feet. The beast wanted my attention. "Dogs are smarter than humans" the man said. “Sometimes” I said in a non committal fashion. ”They can understand us much better than we can understand them. They read our body language. We humans think we are superior but we have grown complacent atop the food chain." Why did he say that? Did he not trust me? But his dog did? Therefore, he did?