There were dogs on the train. Coming home from work, a bit later than usual, I boarded a Red Line train at Chicago and State expecting the typical assortment of boisterous drunks and sleepy late-shifters. They were aboard. Also, there were dogs.

Judging by the breed (German Shepherd), the owners (in matching blue uniforms), and the muzzle (present) these were working dogs in some line of security. They didn’t have the slightest look of malice. Indeed, the one nearest me had the nervous pant of an animal who is quite certain he had no need at all to be traveling in this noisy, shuddering vehicle. He, quite adorably, continually pestered his master with pleading smacks on the hand. When he made contact, and managed to maintain this stance it looked like nothing more than a scared child begging his mother to hold his hand. My dog does this when he wants his belly rubbed.

Also, much like my dog, this canine detective — I suspect these dogs were trained not for interception but detection but I could be wrong — showed signs of advanced age and pained joints. His face and ears had a slight grayness about the edges and his sitting posture was crooked. Instead of sitting with his butt flat and all four paws on the floor he tucked his left leg under his hip. I suspect he had a touch of hip dysplasia on that side. His handler was a pleasant looking and very large black man. He indulged his companion’s paw smacks and the general unease of the car’s passengers with a wry smile.

I gradually became aware of a growing tension in the front of the car. There was another German Shepherd and another security agent at the front door. A man of indeterminate descent — he may have been Indian, but I’m not certain — was getting angrier and louder as he stumbled towards the back of the car to engage the large black fellow in a largely one-sided conversation. It would be fair to call this a “rant.” I do not know the reasoning behind his rage, as his diatribe was delivered in a broken and heavily accented fashion. I caught the word “racist,” though I do not know if he were referring to the dog or the handler, as well as a few phrases about “not understanding” him though he claimed to speak more languages with fluency than anyone aboard. He also threatened to sue both of the dog owners as well as the CTA. Perhaps the dog or the woman holding the dog looked at him askance. Perhaps he was threatened by the very presence of the dogs. Very likely he had something to hide.

And then, we arrived at my transfer stop. I and the dogs exited. The angry man stayed aboard, muttering to himself as he found a seat. The dogs left. The train left and another Red Line train arrived moments afterward. There were no dogs aboard.