Dogs

(My conversation with L continued.)

My friend put up a curious smile and was silent for a moment. His eyes told me that he was not thinking of who hanged the unfortunate cat, but, rather, why I couldn’t see who did it.

Finally, he said, “You silly old boy. For god’s sake, it was the dogs, of course.”

“That’s the same. The dogs were kept by your landlady; she is the master and made all the orders.” I was puzzled.

“No, the dogs are the master.” L was grave, “They control each and every room and therefore the entire house. For obvious reasons, one or two of them thought that the cat yelled too much; they decided by their own will and silence the unfortunate pet permanently!”

I gasped. How could I say anything else?

My friend went on, “The unfortunate thing is my landlady has to shoulder the responsibility. She could do nothing about her dogs, and, even worse, she wants to give everyone the impression that she is the master. How could she told the others that she has lost the control of her house?”