It was not the usual clang clang sound of two rusted iron tied together that always preceded Bruno, Mr Fagbem’s dog, that called my attention this one time. It was a snarling. The snarling of horror mixed with madness. It was the sound of being majorly pissed and at the same time scared shitless.
Bruno was a German Shepherd, notorious for he’s ferociousness with strangers and he’s playfulness with allies. But the allies were not necessarily people that Bruno saw frequently, they were people he trusted, people he chose. You could come to our compound every day and bring a sack of bones for Bruno each time and it still wouldn’t like you. And if Bruno didn’t like you, he wouldn’t touch your bribes. But not just that, if Bruno didn’t like you, you would not enjoy your stay in our house very much because Bruno would almost bark his head off. And once you come out, make sure your back was not turned to him at any time.
