What Do You Mean?
—Ho ho, so... you're saying all that patchy fur loss and rock-hard skin is because of these mites called scabies?
"That's right. When the skin cracks and wounds form, it leaves you vulnerable to secondary infections too."
—Secondary infections?
"It means new infections piling on top of the existing ones. Anyway, in your case..."
—Nureoguman.
I'm talking right now with a raccoon dog who's chomping away at his feed with his front paws. The guy's name is Nureoguman.
Nureoguman didn't seem all that surprised to learn I could understand animals.
"Yeah... for a guy like you, Nureoguman, the intense itching from the scabies must've made normal life impossible. Fewer chances to eat, so you lost weight, and eventually ended up dehydrated like you are today."
—Ooh, impressive! It's like you can see right through how I've been living. You're amazing!
"Well... that's my job."
Getting praise from a raccoon dog felt weird, but not entirely bad—some strange mix of emotions.
"Anyway, treatment's all done, so stick around here for a bit. Your fur will grow back soon enough."
—Huhu, nah, I'm good. I'm a nature-loving raccoon dog, you see.
"Nature-loving... what? You mean you're heading back to where you used to live?"
—Yeah. I wandered a bit off track for a while, but some bugs aren't gonna stop Nureoguman's free life.
Nureoguman.
The guy clearly had no idea how serious this was.
"Listen up, Nureoguman. If you go back out there like this, you could get scabies again. If you really want to live in the wild, you'll need a completely different habitat from what you've got now..."
—Huh? Did you not treat me properly? I thought you were a real pro, but surprise.
Nureoguman wasn't listening to a word I said.
It felt like sitting the Heungseon Daewongun down and telling him to open the country.
"No, think about it. Wild raccoon dogs in the mountains—how do they live? They sleep in tree hollows or rock crevices, right? You got anything like that by the stream? You're probably crashing in a sewer or something."
—Ah, no way! How'd you know?
I kept explaining to Nureoguman, who bolted upright with a shocked look.
"Eh, it was a safe guess. Sewers are the easiest spot to avoid people. But they're not just dark and damp—they're perfect for catching diseases. So if you want to live in nature, head deep into the mountains or somewhere. No more damp sewers. Keep this up, and who knows when you'll get scabies or some skin disease again."
—Ooh, you...
Nureoguman's eyes sparkled as he clapped his front paws together.
—Amazing! You're really something! It's like you know exactly how I've been living! But you're wrong about one thing.
Me, wrong?
I couldn't be off about raccoon dog habitats.
—I'm a raccoon dog who used to live with humans. So I don't really know how wild ones live. Huhu, go ahead—explain it to me. Where I should live, what to eat, how to act.
That explained the weirdness.
Even his name, Nureoguman.
And no hostility toward humans, despite me being able to talk to animals.
If he'd lived with people before, it all made sense. The only mystery left was how a pet raccoon dog ended up released into the wild.
—Hey, that pitying look is rude, you know.
But Nureoguman crossed his front paws like he'd read my face.
—Past is past. I love wild life now. Made a ton of new friends too.
"Uh... sorry."
—Huhu, forget it. I'm not the type to get offended over petty stuff like humans. Now explain. What do wild raccoon dogs eat and how do they live?
Here I was, a human, about to lecture a raccoon dog on raccoon dogs.
What a bizarre situation.
"...Not sure where to start, but wild raccoon dogs prefer forested areas near rivers or streams, thick with brush. They make dens in nearby trees or rock crevices..."
I skipped mentioning they sometimes use fox or badger dens. Didn't want him picking fights with them after hearing me.
"Anyway, look for spots like that, and they're omnivores."
—Omnivores? Eat anything?
"Yeah. Depends on the season—summer like now, fruits, grains, veggies mostly; fall..."
Every time I explained, Nureoguman's eyes lit up with awe. Sometimes he'd gasp like he'd uncovered the world's secrets.
—No... way. I was a dog?!
"No, not dog—Canidae family. That's just the classification. Raccoon dogs, wolves, foxes—all Canidae. Don't get too excited."
—Ooh, got it. Keep going.
"Sigh... anyway, raccoon dogs are the only Canidae that hibernate in winter..."
We went on like that—shock, pause, shock, pause—for a good while until Nureoguman finally nodded, arms crossed in satisfaction.
—Mm, good. Excellent. Now I won't get outed as a city slicker anywhere.
"Yeah... congrats. Ask tomorrow if you've got more questions. Now rest up."
I was dragging my exhausted body from the morning up to the third floor when—
—Wait.
"...What now?"
This guy.
More questions?
I turned back anxiously, and Nureoguman patted his chest with a paw.
—Raccoon dogs are nocturnal, right?
It was already 10 p.m.
Up before work for Ssal-i's walk.
Treated a flood of patients.
Ssal-i's walk again.
Then Nureoguman's treatment.
A grueling, endless day.
But.
"You're... leaving now?"
—Yeah. You wouldn't tell a nocturnal animal to move at night, would you? Not a vet.
"Fair, but... didn't you say you roamed during the day too?"
Nureoguman had told me.
Having lived with humans for a while, he hunted mostly daytime.
But.
—That was old Nureoguman. Now I'm new Nureoguman. Don't worry.
Nureoguman had been reborn.
Was this self-inflicted karma?
Losing an argument to a raccoon dog—not even human—stirred an indescribable feeling.
"...Wait. I'll get ready."
So I had no choice but to go.
I couldn't win with words.
I put Nureoguman in a carrier and headed to the massive rock where I'd first found him.
"Huff... haa... haa... "
The carrier's weight alone had my lungs burning and forearms screaming, so I was alternating arms when—
—Huhu, Doc, you're suited to being human.
"Haa... what're you talking about?"
—If you'd been a raccoon dog, you couldn't catch a single cricket.
"What? If I were a raccoon dog, crickets would be... "
No, I wouldn't eat them.
Even as one, bugs are a no.
Chatting away, we reached the massive rock.
"Phew, we're here. Anyway, take care. No crawling back into sewers looking for dark spots to hide from people."
I set the heavy carrier down under that same rock with shaking arms and opened the door.
Nureoguman stepped out leisurely, like getting out of a taxi, stretched, and said—
—I'll find a good spot like you said, so relax. But what if I get sick again? Can't just... die, right?
"...What?"
—Lots of people and cars between here and the animal hospital. Might get hit going for treatment.
"......"
Nureoguman said it casually, but death's shadow loomed in his words.
A vet treats sick animals.
I could hear animals now, but that hadn't changed my job—or me. And it shouldn't.
"Don't worry about that. I'll come treat you until you're fully better."
—Ooh! For real?!
"Yeah. See you in two weeks. Manage well, and you'll be fine—no problems, fur grown back."
—This place? Big Rock? Animals all call it Big Rock.
"Yeah, Big Rock. Same time, two weeks."
—Thanks, Doc. See ya.
Nureoguman vanished into the darkness.
I had no idea then how those "see you in two weeks" words would turn out.
The day after treating Nureoguman.
Mondays are Hanmaum Animal Hospital's day off—but not for me.
"Hello, Animal Kingdom friends~ It's Reina! Today, we're greeting you with Baek Min-hyeok, director of Hanmaum Animal Hospital, who hears animals' true hearts!"
"Hello, this is Baek Min-hyeok."
Reina beamed through my flat camera greeting.
"We're in Seosan, South Chungcheong Province today. We came because a peculiar white stray dog showed up here..."
Today's star appeared in this area a few months back.
A sudden white stray.
Animal Kingdom gets dozens of tips daily via email and calls.
Juniors do initial research, then Reina and I join sub-writers (who film VCRs) for on-site visits—like now, the 'scouting' phase.
With junior footage and reports, we knew the basics. This scout would capture rescuing a wary white stray dumped in unfamiliar turf.
"Oh! There—isn't that Marchy? By the trash can?"
The camera swung to where Reina pointed.
Something like that would air with Marchy's footage, but we didn't know his exact condition yet.
"Let's lure with food first. Says he eats well."
Reina poured feed from the crew into a bowl. Marchy, rummaging trash, whipped his head toward the smell.
—Food. Food. Gotta eat. Fill the belly fast. Or else...
"Oh, Marchy's coming over!"
"Everyone back up, give him space. Let him eat comfortably."
As the crew moved to crate the distracted, scarfing Marchy, I urgently blocked them.
"Hold on. Don't grab Marchy."
"Ack!"
They flinched, dropping the crate. Startled Marchy bolted.
"Wha—? Ah! He got away. Now what?"
"Guess we wait again..."
I stared after the fleeing dog, ignoring their resentful tones.
"Writer, can you fly the drone?"
"Drone we can do, but... how about lunch at that restaurant first? You must be hungry. Says he comes back every few hours, so..."
They sounded considerate, but really just didn't want the hassle.
This shoot: rescuing a roaming stray.
Marchy'd return downtown soon enough—capture then.
"No, launch the drone now and follow. It's not just Marchy who needs help."
"Pardon? What do you mean by that?"