The dog is a metaphor of this man, it’s really, sad, if you think about it, a short prose, translated…
He brought a stray home, his mother and wife both said it’d stunk. But recently, they’d started commending on how cute it’d become. On the sunny weekends, they’d taken the dog out to play. As they arrived in the parks, they’d taken turns throwing the ball out for the dog to fetch. Once the ball rolled to a bit farther off, he saw that the dog was tired from running, so, he’d gone and retrieved the ball back. And, as he retrieved the ball back to the he saw his mother and wife told the dog, “come, come over here to me, I’m the kindest to you, aren’t I?”, the dog, stood between his mother and his wife, not daring to move toward either side, like how he’d been regularly.
like this??? Look at the poor bastard! Not my comic…
So, the dog is an alternative version of the man who’d adopted it, the dog didn’t know which person to go to, because he didn’t want to offend either one of them, to lose their favors toward him, just like this man, who’d been stuck between his own mother and wife for god knows how long…
Life, the Obstacle Course 