The Guardian Angel
It’s that dog from before.
I’d completely forgotten about it after firmly refusing Cheonsa’s tearful pleas to keep it. I remember the news back then, blathering on about the "era of ten million pet owners." In the midst of the country’s plummeting birth rate, pets had filled the void, becoming so popular that every other household seemed to have one.
Paradoxically, the creatures that had once received the most love from humanity became the first to be abandoned when the zombie outbreak began. This wasn't a matter of morality or conscience; it was a matter of survival. Even setting aside the issue of sharing precious water and food, reacting to the sounds of corpses lurking outside was like living with a ticking time bomb.
I’ve watched countless deaths over the past five years. Half were humans, and the other half were pets. The ones that didn't even try to run, wagging their tails even as their owners turned into zombies, met the most pathetic and futile ends. Those that were smart enough to flee their owners met the same fate anyway.
The zombie plague spread like a gale, and in a world where humans were changing by the second, there was no room for a dog to survive. Yet, this one was still alive.
I swallowed my surprise and slowly parted my lips.
“…You want us to keep it?”
“He’s super smart. He protected me from the zombies while you were at work, Dad.”
“What?”
I was so startled by the unexpected word that I asked back immediately. Since she was three, the only human Cheonsa had ever met was me. And I had never once used the word "zombie" in front of her. She usually referred to them as "that" or "those things."
“He listens well, too. He can even tell the difference between people and zombies.”
“…….”
Did I say the word "zombie" without realizing it? I cursed my own carelessness. I should have been more careful….
“It’s true. He lured the zombies away from our house.”
“How?”
“He led them away on purpose, went somewhere out of sight, and then came back.”
“Did you give him any food?”
“Just a little. Exactly this much.”
Cheonsa spread her tiny palm halfway. It was only about a spoonful, but she didn't say how many times she’d done it. Feeling a sense of hollow defeat, I looked out the window. The dog in question was sitting in its spot, staring intently at this place.
“Haa.”
“Is it a no?”
“I told you before. Keeping an animal puts you and me in danger.”
Don’t pity it. There is no one more pitiful than us right now. I wanted to say that, but I held it back as I looked at Cheonsa, who was gazing up at me with sparkling eyes. Cheonsa was a child who followed my words like gospel. This was the first time she’d brought it up again after I’d even raised my voice to refuse, so I was deeply flustered.
Is she being this stubborn because she’s lonely? Well, being left alone all day is incredibly lonely and boring. All she has to play with are colored pencils and a notebook, and otherwise, she just stares endlessly at the GPS. Even if she never showed it, she must have been terrified at such a young age.
“Whew.”
I understood Cheonsa’s heart, so it was hard to refuse outright. But keeping that creature brought up realistic problems that weighed heavily on the scales of my decision.
“Dad, look at this.”
As if she’d read my mind, Cheonsa spread out a map. When I shifted my gaze, the child pointed to places marked in orange and giggled. Honestly, I knew exactly where those places were.
“You can get dog food there?”
“Yeah!”
True to the era of ten million pet owners, there were many pet supply stores near our shelter. I remembered seeing quite a lot of supplies left behind when I commuted back and forth. Humans on the verge of starvation would eat anything, but they had died, torn apart by zombies after venturing out in their desperation.
“Okay, let’s say we have food, but what if it suddenly barks while I’m at work and you’re alone?”
“Dojin doesn’t bark.”
“Dojin? You already named him?”
“Yeah. And he’s going to go with you, so it’s okay.”
“With me? Not staying with you?”
“Dojin will protect you, Dad. He’s super smart.”
…To think the reason she was being stubborn was for my sake. My heart felt like it was turning into a marshmallow again. I barely managed to shake my head and harden my gaze.
“Still, no.”
“Aw, whyyy.”
“Keeping an animal wasn't in my plan.”
“Pfft. As if anything in this world ever goes according to plan.”
“…….”
Does she know what she’s saying? There had been many dangerous moments over the last few days. And my movements were transmitted in their entirety to Cheonsa via the GPS signal. She was a sharp child; that was enough evidence for her.
“I won’t eat.”
“Are you going to keep being stubborn?”
“I’m just worried. You need Dojin too, Dad, don’t you?”
“That’s not happening.”
“Can’t you just take him for two days? No, just one day!”
Who did she take after to be this bullheaded? They say no parent can win against their child, and I was exactly that case. How could I win when she looked at me with such desperation?
“…Fine.”
“Really?!”
“But first, I’m going to check if he’s turned into a wild dog. We absolutely cannot keep an animal that attacks us. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah!”
I glanced out the window. The Jindo was still sitting in the same spot, not moving an inch. As I climbed down the rope, I saw its tail moving slightly. Wagging a tail isn't just a sign of happiness. From what I’d heard, they move their tails when excited, or even before attacking.
I approached the dog slowly, keeping my '777777' rifle pointed forward.
“?!”
As if it knew the rifle was a dangerous weapon, the dog jumped up. It hunched its upper body, stood its tail straight up, and began to curl its upper lip. I don’t know much about dogs, but that posture was clearly a sign of hostility.
‘So it really has turned into a wild dog.’
Actually, that wouldn't have been strange. Any dog that survived until now couldn't be the gentle, kind pet we knew before the fall. I naturally acknowledged that it was smart, just as Cheonsa said. If it didn't have high intelligence, it would have died long ago. It wasn't because it was lucky or because its owner hadn't abandoned it. It survived because it acted dirty and vile.
And this moment was a situation where that past felt threatening.
“He’s just scared. It’ll be fine if you put the weapon down.”
Cheonsa, watching from above, chimed in. Put my weapon down in front of a creature that might be a wild dog? Sorry, but I’m not as innocent as a child. Whether human or animal, every living thing that has survived until now must have the same kind of past.
“Down.”
I muttered in a low voice, filled with hostility. What I wanted was its surrender and unconditional obedience. Not a pet-owner relationship, but a clear master-servant one. If either of those wasn't met, I wouldn't do the crazy thing of bringing this creature into my home….
Whine. Whine.
“…?”
A development unfolded that was different from my expectations. The dog suddenly dropped its guard, lay down, and without giving me a chance to be flustered, flipped onto its back and let out a whimpering sound. It was chillingly surprising not only that it understood my words, but that it had grasped my intent.
“See? I told you, didn't I? Dojin is super smart.”
Was it just a coincidence? No matter how hard I tried to understand, I couldn't accept it. I first saw it two years ago. For at least two years, this creature had lived by avoiding corpses. If it were an animal driven by instinct, its wariness should have been at its peak, and in a situation like this, it should have either run away or lunged at me.
Even if distinguishing between zombies and humans by smell wasn't difficult, it was beyond common sense for it to grasp whether I harbored murderous intent.
“Sit.”
“Stand.”
“Spin.”
Like someone possessed, I spat out the go-to commands of pet owners. The Jindo responded to my instructions perfectly, just wagging its tail. It even looked like it was smiling, as if it were trying to act cute.
“……This is insane. Are you some kind of Alpha, too?”
Is it not just wildflowers and zombies that change to adapt to the world? With Cheonsa’s happy laughter, I couldn't think of any more reasons to object.
“Come here.”
I put down the rifle and held out my hand. The Jindo licked my palm as if it had been waiting, pushed its head against me, and tilted its body diagonally. Was it just my imagination that it looked deeply moved?
Perhaps this creature had been longing for human warmth.
“You need a bath.”
Everything else was fine, but the smell of the gutter was pushing deep into my nostrils. I don't know if it hadn't been able to shed its fur properly, but with that brief contact, clumps of shed fur stuck to my clothes. Is this one of the reasons why the era of ten million pet owners couldn't reach twenty million?
It’s hard enough to take care of myself, and now cleaning, bathing….
On the other hand, I thought that if this creature were an existence like an Alpha, it might actually be helpful. In any case, it was a creature that had survived alone for over two years, and it was true that its senses were superior to a human’s in many ways.
“I don’t know if you understand me, but you have to be quiet inside the house. No matter what happens, you must not bark.”
The dog opened its mouth innocently and wagged its tail in circles. I don’t like animals, but I understood, at least a little, why pets had been so loved.
“Smiling without a care in the world.”
The problem was getting it to the house. My shelter is on the 5th floor, and since the 2nd through 4th floors are all blocked off, I have to use a rope. Even if it were some kind of Alpha, I didn't think it could climb a rope using its hind and front paws.
“Oh, right.”
Come to think of it, I remembered the large kennel that was on the 4th floor, so I went down and brought it up. When I opened the kennel for it, the dog hesitated for a moment before hopping right in.
“Good boy.”
I tied the kennel to the rope and finally brought it into the house. I still questioned whether this choice was right, but seeing Cheonsa jumping up and down in joy, I decided it wasn't worth worrying about anymore.
“Dojin, nice to meet you! We finally met.”
Cheonsa had such a happy face that I wondered if I’d ever seen her this delighted. Seeing that, a laugh escaped me before I knew it.
“Don’t touch him yet. We have to wash him first.”
“Okay! I can wait.”
I restrained Cheonsa, who was about to reach out, and headed straight to the bathroom. To think I’d be using water, which even I was rationing, on this creature. Still, since it had to be in the same space as Cheonsa, I had to wash it thoroughly.
“This is surprisingly tough.”
I finished shampooing and started rinsing it off. As I ran my fingers through its fur to wash out the suds, I felt large and small scars all over its body. They were scars that were both a record of the life it had lived and medals of honor. While examining them one by one, I discovered a surprising mark.
‘Teeth marks…?’
The clear marks left on its hind leg were undoubtedly from a zombie. It was definitely a special one. I had never seen an animal that had been bitten by a zombie and survived.
When I touched its hind leg, the dog flinched. The wounds had healed, but perhaps the memories of that day still remained in its brain. When I tried to examine it closely, the dog tucked its tail, whimpered, and began a timid resistance.
“Fine, if you don’t want me to.”
I had no intention of forcing it if it didn't want me to. I finished up roughly and used three towels to dry it off. As the fur, once hidden by muddy water, regained its natural color, a dignified Jindo-like appearance stood out.
Judging by its appearance, it was a white Jindo, at least three years old. Like a warm breeze knocking on the entrance of spring, the dog was a small change that had blown into my quiet and boring shelter.