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In Place of an Introduction

This story does not consist of night-and-day phantasmagorias, but of Dogs and Others. No joke: Others and Dogs. Since a position favouring the relativity of truth is psychologically more justifiable than one favouring the absoluteness of truth, and since it’s not out of the question that it’s also epistemologically more reliable, then it’s true – and let us thank God for it – it’s true, that which is written in books, in church and in other places: Dogs always believe that they belong to Others (whom they consider to be, for unknown reasons enduring right up to our day, better than they are). The Others are not always convinced that they are not themselves Dogs. Still, though, Dogs are Others and Others are Dogs. The one thing that actually distinguishes them from each other, now and again (and something that justifies singling them out for participation in this story), is the level of their (as numerous personages are wont to say, and learned ones at that) social adaptation.

What nonsense! What’s this sort of thing supposed to mean to Dogs? Or especially to Others?

Whatever – both the one group and the other suffocate in the same typical stinking mess that is life: