06/05/2026
*BEKİR COŞKUN*
*You don't know stray dogs…*
At hours when tables are being set in homes in a hurry, laughter rings out in upscale restaurants, and darkness and sorrow descend like a heavy velvet curtain over the city, they emerge from the burrows where they've been hiding all day…
You don't know stray dogs…
While sleep envelops their bodies like a dark sheet, they embark on a relentless bread marathon that lasts until daybreak.
In this city of a thousand faces, fraught with danger, as they pace the garbage-heaped streets with calloused paws, there's only one thing that fills their dreams: to find a piece of bone…
You don't know stray dogs…
They are the ones who die of mange. They are the ones who are often killed needlessly in the rage of rabies, brutally rounded up like garbage and thrown into cages, targeted for mass murder for reasons that remain incomprehensible.
You don't know stray dogs.
They never live out their 15-year allotment from God's bounty. In a short time, shoved and abused, they pass away without even a single day of life as a dog.
You don't know stray dogs.
They are sensitive, loyal, and affectionate. They become your servants and slaves for a mere morsel of bread. Even if you beat them, even if you love them, they won't abandon you like the worthless human beings you gave everything for.
You don't know stray dogs.
They have only one crime: being a dog. And they never committed this crime willingly. That's why they look at you with those warm, sorrowful eyes, like roasted chestnuts, as if they're apologizing. If you know how to look deep inside, those eyes will warm you up, warming all the cold inside you.
You don't know stray dogs, but if you did, you'd love them…
BEKİR COŞKUN
