Thou Shalt Not
We have left the shore of reason and land will not be our home again ...
A true story.
There was a dog where I lived on the mountain, in Nicaragua. He was kept in a pen, 2 meters by 2 meters. I had a good view of him from my bedroom window. I’d look down on the poor guy and sometimes throw him some food.
His owner was a loner. Can’t tell you much, never got to know the guy. But when the dog would bark or do something he didn’t like, he’d open up the cage and chase him around it, kicking and screaming at the poor dog. It was quite the spectacle.
His owner would often come home drunk. Lonely guy him. He was in search of so much life forsakes us … the simple companionship and love of others. One night (I didn’t see it, I only saw the aftermath, the uncountable conclusion), the owner comes home and opens the cage. I imagine, he wanted any kind of warm touch, recognition, any morsel of love possible … but the dog wouldn’t have it.
I heard the liquidation. Just one loud gunshot. I awoke, pulling back the curtain. The dog lay there in a pool of blood. Some feet off, the owner, drunk, tired, lay on the ground, maybe asleep, but half unconscious anyway.
There is an ancient saying … you can’t kick your dog and then be surprised when it bites you. It applies to so much that happens in this world and the cages we live in and among.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
I wrote this with my coffee this morning while reading some Thomas McGrath, feet up on my desk. More on Tom in a next post, I’d like to introduce you to him, my own imaginary poet friend. One of a gang of poets I hang out with, in imagination.
Such a sad story! If only the man had loved his dog, he could have been the companion he needed to give his life purpose and pleasure. It reminds me too of a story about my daughter's boyfriend who was doing some contract work on a ranch and seeing how the owner was abusing his dog loaded him up in his truck and told the man, you don't deserve him, she's mine now and drove away. Turned out to be the sweetest dog ever, a Queensland Heeler. My daughter inherited her, and then I did when she went off to grad school.