Dawn in a City Without Name

I once lived in a country in transformation. The dictatorship had fallen and left behind a void, a wounded city with wounded houses and wounded people trying to rise up. I started in the mornings, before dawn. I recorded how the city awakened every day. I filmed homeless dogs that roamed around in the city in couples, always together. One morning something special happens. In a street crossing lies a dead dog. Its partner stands beside it, devastated. The living dog tries desperately to make contact with the people who pass, but no one seems to care. The dog gets increasingly desperate for help, but people just keep hurrying past.