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Strange Louis of Bruges

7 min readFeb 13, 2026

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There was a young man who drank himself to sleep early in the evening everyday. He was lanky and stout. Neither tall nor short, he was mediocre at best. Louis was a dog walker by profession, taking people’s dogs out for a stroll once at the crack of dawn, then when the morning sun first shone in through the windows and at last at noon, after he was finished with his late breakfast filled with savoury waffles and stark black tea. He only chose to serve households that had more than two dogs- something not very hard to come by if you scoured for work in the wealthy parts of the city of Bruges.

The first thing he ever wanted to become as a child was a dogwalker, and so he became just that, but he didn’t truly know if it was his opposition to materialisticness that led him to be so and lead such a plain life, or that he was simply lazy. He did not even prefer dogs, evident by the cat he had at home that he sat with in the garden sometimes. However no cat wished to be taken on morning walks, and so a dog walker he was to become.

Maybe if he had better business acumen, he’d be able to make more money by promoting himself to be a dog trainer and start his own academy. Picking up after other people’s creatures felt utmost disgraceful to him.

Although it was not an entirely meritless job, for only last year he had been invited for dinner and drinks from one of those four storey houses he worked for. He thought it was a form of charity, perhaps they had been tired by the sight of his khaki pants that he wore at least four times a week and took pity on his non affluent self.

However the Simonis’ had simply requested his presence for their daughter who found herself in a routine of eyeing him from her room in the morning when she woke up and got dressed by her maid before the large windows. She claimed he piqued her interest and complained to her parents that she hadn’t any friends her age. Her parents readily obliged and hosted him over a grand meal that excited him more than his new friend.

Friendship however, was far from her mind, for as soon as her parents excused themselves from the dinner room, she had decided she was already in love with him. Her advances weren’t exactly subtle and Louis’ rejection wasn’t entirely kind. Needless to say, nothing romantic came of the dinner and he remained to be the Simonis family’s dog walker.

He was an odd fellow that spent too much time by himself. Left to his own thoughts, Louis was sometimes sad. Today he found himself feeling heavy with the burden of existence and put his mind towards having a bad day. It was already 12:30 p.m. during his third work shift, when he sat himself on the bench of a public park, and tied the poodle dog he was to walk to the left armrest, and the great dane on the right. The bench was a little cold, and somewhere nearby a bicycle bell rang before everything went quiet again.

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Knowing himself to be deserving of a break, he whipped out his cigarette case and put one up to his mouth to light it.

He hadn’t yet billowed smoke from the first puff when he heard the voice of the man in whose chateau the poodle and the great dane lived. Mr. Terlinden’s presence elicited a curse from under Louis’ lips.

Louis had never known a man as sour as him. Mr. Terlinden was in no better graces today, the scowl on the old grouch’s face magnified as he witnessed the dog walker leisurely sitting next to the tied up dogs that seemed to not be very bothered by the fact that they could lay on their bellies and give up any form of physical exercise. At home the dogs were sneakily fed cream compote cakes by the spoiled children for god’s sake, they weren’t exactly the picture of good health.

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The old man told Louis off for slacking at his job, and not without the arrogant reminder of what amount was paid to him. Not having had the best mood, Louis lost his temper and in his bout of frustration at being misunderstood grabbed ahold of the old man by the collar and had half a mind to deck him across the face. When he realised a female was standing behind the old man, his cheap mistress perhaps, for he had known Mrs. Terlinden would’ve never worn a skirt that bared even an inch of her stockings, Louis let go and lowered his hands, laughing at the old man’s sordid habits.

Louis unchained both dogs and handed the harness handles to the old man, “Here you go Mr. Terlinden, take your dogs back home, I’m feeling rather peevish today.”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort you fool, you had better do your job as told or you’ll be laid off!” The old man threatened, holding the leash out for Louis to take.

Louis made a straight face and simply said, “Either I take the day off that you have so kindly granted me and let you take your dogs back home yourself, or I shall take news of your bitch to your wife.”

“You prick,” the old man bit, and yanked the dogs toward himself, and walked away, wondering how on earth he would explain bumping into the dog walker at the Beguinevest Park in the middle of the work day, and if having grabbed lunch across the street would make for a digestible lie to his wife.

Louis was relieved of his last duty of the day and returned to a fresh new cigarette. He had duty again tomorrow, but decided to relax at once and enjoy the day. Releasing stress by defying that unfaithful man brought an upturn to a day that had earlier been somewhat pessimistic.

Old, rich men could hardly deny the benefits of the company of a young, poorer woman, thought Louis. Although it would have proven useful to earn a few more cents so he wouldn’t have to deal with men he didn’t like working for, it was pointless and tiresome to be in trade just to miss out on life. He didn’t bother about pursuing a more lucrative career anytime soon. However, he imagined it would be nice if he could afford Lucie’s, his grey cat’s, liver medicine, in addition to being able to stop having to pick up after other people’s pets, had he chosen to progress into a dog trainer from a walker. He gave it a thought every now and then, and just as easily shrugged it off. He wanted to go back to the garden in his own dilapidated premises, and drink.

Gin and tonic. The best kind too, his love for Gillemore Gin outdid his sense of responsibility for Lucie, who often came and went as she pleased, deeming her as disloyal, and him: an ordinary alcoholic.

Whatever he earned, he spent mainly on gin, the majority of his diet: brussel sprouts and a periodical magazine that came in weekly called: ‘The Tropical Wildlife.’ He was awfully fascinated with creatures, and had he taken to his education, Louis could’ve made something more celebrated of himself, but now his situation was such that often, he couldn’t afford at least one magazine of the month. This depended on whether he thought Lucie was deserving of another meal, which was only served if she had lawfully visited him to keep him cosy with her feline adorableness. He knew that cats were selfish and so, he struck a transactional friendship with a cat he called his, because her bed and boarding took place at his quarters. He didn’t know where she wandered off to in the daytime, and didn’t ask. He was simply not concerned with being attached to the presence of another being.

Once he had spotted her on one of his occasional visits to the marketplace when he wished to buy some ointment. She was sitting on the lap of an old lady who possessed the likes of a grandmother. The lady absentmindedly stroked the ball of fur, as Lucie gave into her relaxing touch and purred in response. In taking notice of this he awkwardly hastened the medicine man to give him his purchased item and moved away before the cat could acknowledge him.

When Louis’ parents left him their estate, he didn’t understand why they had died so early and young, he himself was only fourteen, but as he grew older, he guessed their lack of participation in society was one of the reasons. He never once saw a friendly neighbourhood woman coming to their house to gossip with his mother. This was impressionable enough on him to not be motivated to make any friends of his own either. The idea of fewer people coming into his house made him comfortable.

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Liril Panchal
Liril Panchal

Written by Liril Panchal

Student of Metaphysics, Epistemology, Ethics and Religion. Aspiring Research Scholar and Professor.