January 28, 2010; The Wisdom

Before I make a final decision about the future and about Mook A, it might be important to share some lore—some wisdom—about humans, dogs and the cycle of life.

Like him or hate him (and I hate the motherfucker), The Dog Whisperer is right about dogs in one respect: we are either leaders or followers. (But that is true of all animals, including humans, isn't it?) I am a leader and what is making life with the Mooks prickly is that Mook A, mostly, insists he is the boss. Mook B tries to be or pretends to be but he's not. He's my bitch, my little brother and pretty much bends to my will. (I just have to give him "the look" and he turns to mush.)

Now what this all means is that although outside dogs like Benjie bow to me and even Ginger accepts I am stronger (though she's a bit of a cunt about it), in this house things have to be taken to another level if life is going to go on. Can there be co-bosses? We'll see. But this brings us to another subject—the relationships between species.

Dogs, for instance, understand everything. Well, most dogs. Dumb dogs and inbreds (I'm talking to you, beagles!) are a little slow but the rest of us understand—word for word—what people say. Many of us speak a couple or several languages (apart from Dogspeak). Humans don't believe this of us pointing to the fact that we don't always respond when they speak to us. That's because most of the time what humans say is white noise that we pretty much ignore like we ignore bird song, fish humming in aquariums, the chittering of vermin under floorboards and TV; it's all blither. Moreover, when we need to know what's going on in a human household we not only understand ever word but also a lot of what is unspoken because we smell your thoughts: your fear, your confusion, your joy and grief. (For instance, right now, Mook A's thoughts are particularly dark; he is seeing nurses three times a week and getting nowhere closer to healing and he has just had to be fitted for a big belt because all the scars he has are tearing under the skin—I can smell that, the Darkness, even when he doesn't talk about it, not even with Mook B.)

A strong smell speaks to us more clearly than a lot of talking. But put speech and smell together and dogs get it. We...get...it. All of it. You have no secrets. So to exert power over us you have size (sometimes), weapons, food and exploding emotions over which you have no control and that last thing—to all sentient beings—is the scariest thing of all. You are at the top of the food chain not because you were chosen to be (which most of you devoutly believe) but because you are, for now, the most dangerous beings. And what makes all "king" will also, probably very soon, destroy you all. You all talk about the end of humanity like it is preventable but you allow emotions—irrational thought (dogma), wants, need for unnecessary things—to rule you all and because of that you cannot stop what is coming. The dumbest of dumb, inbred dogs simply has to watch CNN for ten minutes to know where you are all going and that the end is near. All animals, down to the cockroach, know humans have been on the road to destruction since Eden and that the road is coming to an end (and not a crossroads like you wish to believe).

A lot of us will survive long after you and we're patient. We have learned it is the very impatience of humans (to have, to eat, to fuck, to ignore the cycles of time and weather in a quest to own and to rule) that will destroy them. You.

It's a given.

That's all.

We can wait.

We have our followers and our leaders and not a single human (wish as they might) is among the latter.

Our time is coming.

Meanwhile, the Mooks cut my meals back to one a day because I have put on weight despite all efforts. I didn't really need the other meal, I know, but it was nice to know it was there for snacking on. Yes, we will rule the earth some day...but we like out snacks.