Momma, Can't I Stay and Play Just One More Day?
"Momma, can't I stay an' play just one more day?"
Kakkong-i said this to the guardian who had come to pick him up, then darted behind Lee Jun.
For a dog who loved nothing more than play, those days of running around with his friends until they all dropped off to sleep had been an absolute blast.
The guardian laughed at the sight of Kakkong-i wagging his tail behind Lee Jun.
"Director, look at our Kakkong-i hiding behind you because he doesn't want to go home. He must have had such a good time..."
"Haha, I guess playing with his friends was a lot of fun."
"My goodness, our Kakkong-i did that? Did you have fun?"
Affection dripped from every word she spoke to him, her eyes shining with pride at how wonderfully he'd done.
"Back in the day, if we boarded Kakkong-i at a pet hotel, he'd completely fall apart. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep — just sat staring at the door the whole time. I can hardly believe it's the same dog. That's why I can leave him with you without a single worry, Director."
"Haha, not at all. I'm the one who should be grateful — Kakkong-i ate well and got along so nicely with his friends."
At Lee Jun's words, Kakkong-i's guardian smiled softly.
Oh, Director. Anyone can see how well you've taken care of him, how much affection you've given him...
She took in the sight of Kakkong-i gazing up at Lee Jun, his dark eyes sparkling. She knew better than anyone that a look like that only came from genuine fondness, and she expressed her gratitude.
"Director, thank you so much for taking such good care of our Kakkong-i."
"He really did just fine all on his own."
"That's exactly why I'm so grateful. It means he was as comfortable here as he is at home."
Her smile deepened as she spoke to him.
"Kakkong-i, time to go home now. You can play with your friends again next time, okay? Don't you miss Daddy?"
At that, Kakkong-i's head tilted to the side. The word Daddy had stirred something in him. He cocked his head a few more times, then finally pitter-pattered over to his guardian on those short little legs.
"Hohoho, that's just how he is. The moment he hears 'Daddy,' he completely loses it."
"Hahaha, is that so?"
"Yes. That's why my husband always hurries home, too."
Still laughing, she scooped Kakkong-i up as he reached her.
"Aigoo, my little cutie. Shall we go home now?"
"That's right. Go on home and get some good rest."
Lee Jun saw Kakkong-i and his guardian off, and the five animals came along to say goodbye as well. Kakkong-i had been the last guest remaining at the hotel — perhaps that was why the farewell felt especially bittersweet. The three of them lingered over their goodbyes longer than usual.
"Take care-ong."
"Bye."
"Kakkong-i-yayo. Let's play again next time-dayo."
The three of them pressed themselves against the window, waving until Kakkong-i disappeared from sight. Jjaek and One-eye, who had grown fond of him over the past week, stood with them and watched until he was gone.
Watching the five of them see Kakkong-i off, Lee Jun suddenly found himself thinking of his own childhood.
I used to have sleepovers with that Kwak Suho and Choi Woo-jin all the time.
In elementary school, they'd gather at Golmokjib on weekends to read comics and play games until they fell asleep. In middle school, they'd get together supposedly to study for exams, then end up doing nothing but gaming until they passed out.
High school wasn't any different.
Either way, the two of them had come and gone from Golmokjib as if it were their own home, and the nights they'd stayed over were too many to count. And yet, every morning after his two friends had gone home, Lee Jun would feel a hollow emptiness.
Those guys are going to feel empty for a while. All the friends they played with so hard for a whole week are gone.
Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree had spent the entire past week at the animal hospital, insisting they wanted to be with their friends. So of course they'd feel lonely and empty now. Remembering those days from his own childhood, Lee Jun looked at the five of them with a touch of sympathy.
At the same time, another thought occurred to him.
Hmm, once those three go home too, only the two of them will be left...
Wouldn't Jjaek and One-eye feel even lonelier? The thought made Lee Jun wonder what he ought to say to them.
But as it turned out, he needn't have worried. When it was time to leave for the day, the three of them said goodbye to Jjaek and One-eye.
"We're heading out-ong. Sleep well-ong."
"We're going!"
"Jjaek-yayo, One-eye-yayo. See you tomorrow-dayo!"
At their farewell, the two of them dipped their heads with remarkably cheerful expressions, as if they hadn't a shred of lingering attachment.
"King Boss, Black Boss — please rest well, then."
"Go ahead."
With that, they scampered up the ramp without even looking back.
Lee Jun's guess had been completely wrong. One-eye and Jjaek were thrilled — they'd finally gotten their freedom back.
"Heh heh, at last I can stretch all four legs out and sleep."
"Th-that's right, Boss. I'll be sleeping at the very top of the cat tower."
That was it. One-eye had always envied the top level of the cat tower, where Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi were always sprawled out or perched.
"Hmm, I see. Then I'll flop down belly-first right where Sapsaree-hyungnim used to sleep."
Jjaek, who had always slept up in a tree keeping watch over his subordinates, had been coveting Sapsaree's spot. And so the two of them, shamelessly indulging their own desires, settled into the places they'd been eyeing.
Meanwhile, the three who had returned home were snoring so thunderously the house itself seemed ready to take flight, as if they'd never felt a moment of loneliness at all. Listening to the rumbling, rattling snores, Lee Jun smiled.
"These guys. They really don't leave anything hanging, do they?"
They gave their all while they were together, and they never clung to what was gone. Thinking how he rather envied that way of being, Lee Jun drifted off to sleep as well.
Before long, Chuseok had come and gone, and a chilly wind was blowing through the streets.
It's cold.
Jang Pan-ho felt the cold air seeping even into the house, and with it, a hollow emptiness opened in one corner of his heart. He believed this emptiness was Janggoon's trace — a space that would never be filled for as long as he lived.
Janggoon...
The pain of losing someone precious never fully fades. It appears without warning, slipping suddenly into a person's heart. For Jang Pan-ho, it was especially severe.
To him, a dog was... Janggoon had been the first and last dog of his life. That was what he believed, and that belief had never changed. After Janggoon had gone to the Dog Star, the thought had only hardened. He had even built walls between himself and other people.
And then a dog named Sapsaree had slipped right into Jang Pan-ho's heart.
It hadn't been a stealthy entrance. Sapsaree had pried open a gap as he came in — he'd had no choice, squeezing his way into a place that had been sealed shut. And through that gap, the warmth of other people had seeped in as well. That was how Jang Pan-ho had become the man he was now.
He had not only begun talking with people again — he could now speak about dogs without any hesitation. When he saw dogs passing by, he no longer looked away as he once had. He simply looked at them as they were.
Even so, he had no intention of bringing a dog into his own life again. The thought itself never even occurred to him.
Sapsaree, however, was the exception.
Jang Pan-ho took out his phone and chuckled as he looked at a photo of Sapsaree.
This guy is a friend. A friend.
And that was why he wanted to see him again. Because they were friends.
As he sat there looking at the photo, his wife spoke up beside him.
"What is it? What are you looking at that's got you smiling like that?"
"Mm, it's nothing. Just looking at a picture of this guy, Sapsaree. The director posted a new photo."
The fellow participants he'd met at the Community Welfare Center were still in active contact. Lee Jun was, of course, at the center of their group, and he regularly posted photos and videos of Sapsaree, Hoesaegi, and Gkamnyangi — the ones the elderly folks loved most. Jang Pan-ho was looking at the new photos Lee Jun had uploaded.
"Oh my, really? Are there pictures of Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi too?"
Just as Jang Pan-ho held a special affection for Sapsaree, his wife, Yoo Yeonju, had a soft spot for the cats. She loved them all — Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi, of course, but also Banana, Bongbong, and Lady Nana.
"Mm, there are. Want me to send them to you?"
"Yes. If there are pictures of the others too, send those as well."
"All right."
Jang Pan-ho sent his wife the photos of the cats.
"Oh my, they're so adorable. Goodness, how can they be this cute...!"
He smiled as he watched her marveling over the pictures, then turned his gaze back to Sapsaree. I miss that guy, he thought.
Hmm, Director Lee did say to come by anytime, but I can't just keep showing up at a busy animal hospital.
Lee Jun had told the elderly folks at the Community Welfare Center that they were welcome at Mongmong Animal Hospital anytime they wanted to see the animals. But they, not wanting to bother someone who was busy treating sick animals, tried not to go if they could help it. Jang Pan-ho was no different.
But that Director Lee really does understand how people feel.
Lee Jun would pick up on those feelings and occasionally invite them over. Each time, the volunteers and animals who had participated in the program would join in, and they'd all spend a happy while together.
Jang Pan-ho remembered the time last summer when he'd seen Sapsaree.
That guy stuck right to my side.
A smile spread across his face as he recalled Sapsaree grinning at him, heh-heh — an easy, comfortable smile. Remembering Sapsaree smiling at him, Jang Pan-ho found himself missing the dog.
But he couldn't quite bring himself to suggest going to his wife. Going alone was even less appealing.
I'd love to go see our Sapsaree, but the doctors are busy. They'd be bothered. They might think this old man is being ridiculous.
That was why he hesitated. And perhaps because of that hesitation, he wanted to see Sapsaree all the more.
As he sat missing Sapsaree over the photograph, Yoo Yeonju spoke up.
"Aigoo, these kids are always smiling. What could make them so happy?"
A gentle smile bloomed on her face as she looked at the photos.
"Ahem, they're living with Director Lee. Of course they're happy. Of course they're doing well."
"I suppose so."
"Of course!"
Jang Pan-ho answered with conviction, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"That's true. Honey, shall we go see our kids?"
At his wife's words, Jang Pan-ho's face lit up in an instant.
"Ahem, would that be all right? The doctors must be busy..."
"Chuseok's over now — let's go and say hello while we're at it. We can just peek at the kids' faces and come right back."
"If that's what you'd like, well... I suppose we could..."
He made it sound as though he were reluctantly going along with her, but Jang Pan-ho was overjoyed that she had been the one to suggest it.
"Well then, since we've brought it up, let's go today."
"All right."
Yoo Yeonju beamed as she watched her husband get up from the sofa.
What would have happened if I hadn't been the one to suggest going?
A short while later, Jang Pan-ho and his wife left the house.
"Let's take the bus. Parking at a busy hospital would just be a nuisance — a real nuisance."
"All right. The weather's nice and cool — perfect for walking. And we can pick up something for the staff on the way."
"Let's do that."
The couple set off on their pleasant little outing. As they walked, Yoo Yeonju asked,
"Is it all right if we don't call ahead?"
"Better to just go. If we call, they'll wait for us, won't they? They must have plenty of appointments. If they look busy when we get there, we'll just say hello and leave. And we can see the kids for a bit while we're at it."
"All right, then. Oh, last time I noticed Director Lee really enjoys those chewy sweet rice cakes — shall we bring some?"
There was a bakery on the way to the bus stop, famous for its chapssaltteok.
"Let's do that."
The couple stopped at the bakery, bought sweet rice cakes, cake, bread, and the like, then boarded the bus bound for Mongmong Animal Hospital. About twenty minutes later they got off and started walking again. The animal hospital was a five-minute walk from the stop, and their steps were light.
"Hehe, this place feels so warm and familiar every time we come."
"It does."
Perhaps it was because this was the neighborhood where Mongmong Animal Hospital stood — everything about it felt dear. And if a dog happened to pass by, that fondness doubled. Just then, a Shih Tzu was walking alongside its guardian right in front of them.
"Honey, that dog probably goes to our Mongmong Animal Hospital too, don't you think?"
As she watched the passing Shih Tzu, the words our Mongmong Animal Hospital slipped from Yoo Yeonju's lips as naturally as anything.
"Of course."
Sharing the same thought, Jang Pan-ho answered, then added,
"Ahem. If that person isn't taking their dog to Mongmong Animal Hospital, they're making a mistake."
Perhaps because the couple's thoughts were so fixed on the hospital, dogs seemed to catch their eye at every turn. They walked along, taking note of each and every one that passed.
That was when it happened.
"Oh my, look at that one."
"What?"
Jang Pan-ho turned to look where his wife had directed. There was a small dog there.
"A Yorkie?"
"Yes, but why is it all alone like that?"
"Where's the guardian? There's no leash, either. What if something happens to the poor thing!"
Jang Pan-ho burst out in irritation. Of course, they were in the middle of the street, so he kept his voice down.
The couple looked around. Some guardians did take their dogs out without a leash, so there might have been an owner somewhere ahead of or behind the Yorkshire Terrier. But there were only people hurrying along — no one who looked like a guardian.
Meanwhile, the Yorkshire Terrier was peering around with its little head, its neck drawn in as far as it would go.
And then — a bicycle suddenly whooshed past right beside it.
Yipe!
The terrified Yorkshire Terrier let out a shriek of pure terror, then stood there trembling.