The untrained dog will remain rebellious.
They’ll do what they want, oblivious to a sense of authority because it never really existed.
They’ll tear precious valuables to pieces, and leave the remnants of their own bowels on the floor – a marker that symbolizes their presence, their energy in that moment, and one that they expect their human to take care of.
Because to a dog that suffers from rebellion, they own you.
Not the other way around.
You will feed them, you will nurture them, and even come up with a cute name that separates them from the other hounds on the block – and they’ll reciprocate coldly, because they can.
They’ve ultimately been given permission to do so.
You see, they don’t respect morale until that morale is forcefed to them.
No choice to accept or decline.
And when they finally reach good boy status, you give them a few more inches on the leash, or reward them with a treat that they otherwise would have received by just being the little mutt bastard that they came out of the womb as.
In the end though, something changes – doesn’t it, Xavier?
Through this change of control, the dog begins to recognize the alpha. There’s a void, where compassion for those that have allowed it to stay alive, that begins to fill. And suddenly, we see a dog that willingly respects that alpha, if only because he now knows where he resides on the pecking order.
And we can all thank our sweet Simon for this revelation. He’s become the forefather behind reshaping the reckless abandon in you – and I wish I could say that you’re grateful for all of this.
But I don’t think you are.
In fact, I don’t think you’re convinced that morality could only improve from this life change of yours, Xavier, so do you know what means?
The beatings must resume until you’re a good boy. And for as brave as it was for Simon to take that first step in getting your rebellion in line, it’s no less daunting to play entrepreneur of this project.
So we’re giving him the night off, and I’ve offered to take on the role of dogsitter for the evening.
And no need for the assurance, I know how surprising all of this is. Who would have expected the championed canine to have to go through such a monumental reality check, right?
But these things tend to happen to those that smugly cross the crooked step, expecting timidity and fear from those that get in their way, with or without intent.
Until you run into someone that doesn’t operate as you wish.
And that’s when the ears sink down, the tail goes between its legs to cover its genitalia, and all of the emotionally shallow junk starts to bleed through the fabric.
It sounds like something you’d remember from Pandemonium I’m sure, Xavier.
Thank God there’s people out there like me in the world, whom notice that good things are happening and will do whatever it must take to maintain that fluidity, right?
So come, my good ole’ boy – let’s go for a walk.