Then he backs away several steps.
For a moment, it looks like the familiar cycle is beginning.
He turns toward the glass again.
Takes two steps.
Stops.
The reflected dog stops too.
Nico stares.
Then he turns away.
He does not come back.
It is one of the first times the loop ends without someone covering the surface for him.
Another Encounter Is Not So Easy
Late in the day, the lighting makes the glass especially reflective.
Nico walks around the corner and suddenly sees a clear dog directly ahead.
His response is immediate.
He lunges.
His bark echoes through the corridor.
He growls and snaps toward the reflected face.
The image answers every movement perfectly.
Nico jerks backward.
Then runs.
He reaches the far end of the kennel area before stopping.
His chest rises quickly.
His ears remain fixed toward the glass.
For several seconds, he stays there.
Safe distance.
No reflection close enough to confront.
He could remain where he is.
Instead, Nico turns.
His Return Begins One Step at a Time
He walks toward the glass.
Slowly.
His head is lower now.
He pauses.
Then advances again.
The reflected Belgian Malinois comes closer with him.
Nico freezes.
His mouth closes.
The muscles along his body tighten.
He takes another step.
So does the dog in the glass.
And suddenly Nico is barking again.
The Glass Is Covered
The image disappears.
Nico stops.
He stands in front of the now-blank surface.
No second dog moves when he moves.
No face comes toward him.
No body mirrors his posture.
Nico sniffs once.
Then backs away.
This time, he does not return.
For everyone watching, the pattern has ended.
For Nico, the mystery is harder to understand.
The strangest part isn't that Nico attacks his reflection—it is that he runs from it as though frightened, then voluntarily returns seconds later to find the exact same “dog” again. Until the glass is covered, he seems unable to decide whether the figure in front of him is something he needs to fight, escape from, or keep checking until it finally disappears.