I wasn’t realizing I’ve been mirroring myself in the window glass. I was looking on the other side of the street, like the dog did. Perhaps we were looking at the same thing, some struggle going on between a man and a woman. Loud voices, gestures. The dog’s car blocked my Toyota in the parking lot, and after a short while both of us being distracted, I shot the photo, knocked at the window, the dog turned wild and I could be happy there was the glass between us. I know he doesn‘t seem dangerous seen from the back, but there was something in his eyes I couldn‘t make sense of. Nevertheless I tried to be polite and asked him to give his master a call or otherwise put in the gear and change the car’s position. He didn’t give a shit and started barking again. When he had finally calmed down (maybe after checking I wasn’t intruding his privacy), I tried to improve our relationship (small talk with strange dogs is one of my skills) and asked him about his favourite record. He gave me a special look and started thinking (or something similar a dog would do when asked such a personal thing). „Masters of Reality“, he said. „That sounds nice“, I lied and remembered the first and last time I had been listening to that record, way back in my school days. In fact I rembered liking the weitd walls of sound coming from that album, its relentlessness. And though I had never ever been driving to any heavy metal festival in the years to come like the ine in Wacken, I would lie somehow saying n o t to have been missing that record in a way. Seriously. I found out that one of m favourite songwriters on the planet, John Darnielle, had even written a book about it. The dog started the cd, and memories flooded me, and I remembered I still even had a Black Sabbath opus in a dark corner of my basement, „Paranoid“. „Long time no hear, but good shit“, I said, to „Johann Sebastian“ (my name for him). A gesture of kindness. Good will. He opened the door with a generous gesture (for a dog), then showed me his tiny Judas Priest tatoo. In the back of the limousine there was a huge heavy metal collection, with some Norwegian and Japanese death metal. The dog did the driving, I was knocked out by the music, it didn‘t touch me that way when I was sweet sixteen. „Masters of Reality“ on the car system. This does not happen every day. After quite a long road trip Johann Sebastian slowly entered a wood. It was quite dark, even at high noon. Other dogs assembled, did some check-up routines and pulled out their basses and guitars and wooden percussion instruments. Tested the natural reverb. Johann Sebastian brought his voice into shape, screamy, weathered, stoned – the band of dogs (named „Mr. Vertigo“) started to play.