May 18, 2009; The Little Games You PLay

Game #1: Alway look innocent...and cute. (Not all dogs can pull this off)

When you're enslaved, it is all about getting the upper hand in such a subtle way that the "master" thinks they are still in charge. So there are games you must play not only to survive but also to enable you to make the final escape, one day...and to never to get caught when that day comes. The Dream? To become one of those alley dogs who eats when and what he wants, who sleeps where he wants and who, if he's lucky, becomes the leader of a pack of alley dogs who roam about killing humans for food.

But until the Dream, it's all about playing the game. The Mooks, for some insane reason, like dogs. I think it's because they can't see past our eyes and into our hearts where rage festers. But as long as they like you, you can play them. Look at me: I've done ever "bad-dog!" thing in the book and they still cuddle me and feed me and buy me things. I've already talked about mastering The Look (eyes slightly squinted in "adoration"), but you also have to have a general demeanor that always, always suggests innocence. Even if you're not innocent of something and you know it and they know it—even if you've shit on the floor while looking straight into their beady piggy eyes—you have to look innocent like, "Oh so so sorry, I did not know this was wrong...I knew shitting on the floor was wrong, but I did not know shitting on the carpet (couch, in your shoes, on your documents) was wrong." If you truly act confused, they wonder if perhaps they haven't taught you correctly or completely. I know this because I hear the Mooks say things like: "Maybe he was trained to shit on paper and that's why I have to print out my final report for the office again. Oh well! Live and learn." They learn, I find another way of making their lives miserable.

Another Game is to "play" with them. If you play hard, it can get wild and wooly and before you  know it you can actually be jumping at their faces to rip their nose off and they are laughing like a pair of schoolgirls at your "energy." For them it's a giggle, for me it's practice for the Final Conflict. And sometimes...sometimes...you can actually inflict real harm like jab a paw into a Mook's eye, or nip the end of his nose so that it bleeds a little and—maybe!—gets infected. What do they do? Well they don't swat me one or rip my head off they say something like, "Calm down, little fellow!" But by then I have bloodlust, you see, and go for the ears, the chin—any damn thing that sticks out. Now that I'm out of control (or at least they think I am because a smart dog is never really out of control) they hold me tight and say things like, "I guess I got you too excited." Well, yes; but this was just a dress rehearsal. Next time it's the throat and a wondrous spray of jugular blood across the room.

Finally, always, always, always go for what you want. Be relentless. Never tire. Never give up. Even if it's something utterly ridiculous like that toy that makes a lot of noise when you bounce it around the house at 3 a.m. Even if you don't want it, really, you must have it. Make them examine their whole system of values. Make them ask questions like, "Do you think he needs more exercise?" or "Do you think he needs to be held more?" or, the best, "Do you think we feed him enough?" You win if they can never pin down what's "wrong" with you. You must remain a total cipher, a mystery to their weary heads. Here's the subtle part: you can't be a loose cannon (one of those dogs who goes off the deep end and eats the baby), you are simply a result of all the mistakes they've made and can correct...or think they can correct.

And then when you've got them completely confused, you do the "kissing" which is just licking, of course, but these idiots think it's love. Lick to a fare-thee-well! Go crazy. If you're lucky, you've just eaten something off the ground that your immune system can handle but theirs can't; go for the mouth, the nose, the ears. It works! "Why have I been feeling nauseous all day?" says Mook A. Hm. And just yesterday Mook B was saying, "I think I need to see a doctor, there's something wrong with my ear." Well, of course there is! A nice lickety-lickety in the ear canal with a tongue covered in fecal bacteria tends to do things to the inner workings of a hearing human. Can you imagine how easy my life would become if these two fuckbrains were deaf? I might not even have to Escape!

But always, always there is the fallback: if they get too perturbed or too confused by you then you just give them The Look. They melt a little. Say, "Awwwww, look at him!" They hold you. You lick lick lick. 

You win.