About

<The Story of Sesang> This is the story of my nine-year life as a dog, which was almost boringly simple. Not long after I was born, my parents were abused and killed by a cruel human. You were the one who rescued me while I was shivering, watching that scene, and took me home. I lived for nine years after that before I passed away. It was heart disease. You tried to take me to the hospital, but that day was Christmas, and you planned to take me first thing the next morning. But I couldn't hold on through the dawn of December 26th and left. You seemed to suffer for nearly four years after that. From the day you buried me on the hill behind the house, you came every single day, rain or shine, bringing the snacks I loved. You would cry in front of my flat grave over and over before heading back. By the fourth year, perhaps your wounds were finally starting to dull, as the intervals between your visits grew longer—from every day to once every three days, then once a week, once a month, and eventually once every four months. On the very day I was supposed to cross the gates of heaven, You came to my grave. Seeing you cry in front of my grave all day, as if something terrible had happened, I couldn't bring myself to take a step away. Despite the gatekeepers' threats that they would send me straight to hell if I didn't go to heaven right now, they saw me looking down at you and finally reached a compromise. Exactly one year. They would give me time to say a final goodbye to you. In exchange, they said that once that year passed and I returned to the sky, you would lose every single memory of me from beginning to end. Watching you cry, I didn't even hesitate. And so, I set foot in the living world again as a 21-year-old university student, the same age as you. Unlike my usual relaxed self, I ran through the campus frantically searching for you. And finally, I faced you—that gaunt face I hadn't seen in years. It's been a while. You haven't visited lately. Are you feeling much better now?