I’m your average black haired, porcelain skinned, brown eyed lithe Korean girl. I grew up in a rather traditional family, my parents passed away early on in my life and so I got raised by my grandparents. The money I inherited was always saved for one purpose alone. To go to the U.S. not to chase after the american dream, but instead, to learn, to grow and to, in a way, fulfill my late father’s own ambitions.
By now I have studied in the states for two years and became finally eligible of doing work that Americans would deem suitable for a foreign student. One of these “eligible part-time jobs” seemed to be helping out in a dog kennel.
I can’t say that I knew much about dogs, let alone had a big passion for them. If anything, all I ever felt for dogs larger than the size of a football was remorse due to the long lasting history of eating dogs after the end of the Korean war, due to the famish that struck the land. That however changed after I met you. I’ve never met anyone who took so much pride in any line of work, let alone in the act of breeding pure-bred pit-bulls.
I felt vastly out of place applying for a job in such a renown kennel but you’ve shown nothing but kindness to me. Whether that was due to the yellow summer dress with white flowers, due to the teal colored high-heels I wore or simply because of the looks that came with my genes, but something about me made you interact in a way with me, that was unlike what I expected.
Mayhaps it was just the kindhearted mentality of Americans. Who else would go through such a length to file the extra paperwork to hire a student who will soon leave the country again while not knowing much of anything about dogs, let alone, about an establishment as efficient as yours?
I can only guess that the little history lesson about the effects of the Korean war must’ve struck a chord with you. I genuinely meant it when I said that I see this as a chance to pay back for the pain and abuse my ancestors have and to some extend are still causing dogs to this day.
And before I knew it, you showed me what you’ve built in merely a few years. A line of barren, yet suitable kennels row after row with access to a common playing area, a large freezer containing actual, real meal with an equally as large refrigerator for vegetables. I still thought you were joking when you asked me if I think I would make a good housewife. – Little did I know how much cooking and cleaning I would be doing.
But the thing that caught my attention first, was the musky smell, the smell lust and piss that was drenching the kennels. But as a man with a lot bigger of a nose assured me. “You’ll get used to it”.
And so the true revelation came as I entered a room with at least 50 seats and a stage. I still remember how confused I was. “A theater?” but then you explained to me how you finally decided to hire outside help, partially because of the success of this so called “theater”.
It totally slipped my mind that the dozen of dogs I’ve seen were all males and I haven’t really seen anything that speaks for puppies to be around, let alone, to be thought about.
And then you helt a rather impressive speech on how this establishment has become the mecca of pitbull breeding in the states. How the most enthusiastic pitbull lovers would celebrate the purity of long lasting, almost royal bloodlines, how they would gather and drink, plan potential marriages like royals and ultimately proof their devotion to the cause of making, keeping, american pitbulls the number one pitbull breed in the world.
It was at that moment that I knew I found a meaningful job. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to proof myself over the past months. Thank you for teaching me so patiently, for always having been kind and ultimately, for allowing me to fall in love with your beautiful dogs and all that comes with it.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ho9ici/carrying_the_burden_of_a_dog_eating_ancestry
Part 2?