Grotesque| Raymond Wadsworth

When I was in Ukraine I was walking along this very busy street. As I walked something caught my attention, as well as the attention of the kid that I was with. We both stopped and stared at this thing that was before us. We didn't say anything. We then looked at each other and both said at the same time, "that is sick!" But we couldn't not look at it.

Picture a St. Bernard dog. Big, healthy, fluffy and kind of cute. Well, this particular St. Bernard had so hair. Its teeth were gone. I don't know how it was still alive. Its skin was pink with very large specks of dark blue all over it. It was lying down panting. Its rolling skin was flaky and its paws worn. Its eyes were blood shot and it needed to be put out of its missery. My thoughts at the moment was, "oh, poor dog...I wish I had a gun..." My buddy took about 10 pictures from different angles. It must have known that we were staring at it because it got up and began to chase us! It was scary because we didn't want to get touched by it, let alone bitten, it would probably give us some disease that we couldn't just wash off. It needed to be shot!