“The canine brain is a fascinating thing.”
“For research, I once owned a small puppy. I didn’t name it, nor did I create attachment to it. I simply studied its progression as a creature under my command.”
“The formative years of its cognition were as you’d expect. It would urinate on the floor and I would tell it off and teach it how to behave.”
“As the canine grew, so did its cognitive function.”
“The creature had advanced memory skills and could read and react appropriately to my body language and actions. It could understand the words I spoke and demonstrate ability to follow my commands.”
“I would tell it to fetch and it would fetch.”
“I would tell it to sit and it would sit.”
“I would tell it to stay and it would stay.
“For all intents and purposes, it was a good dog.”
“I know what it’s like to own a pet, but I don’t know what it’s like to be one.”
“You do, don’t you Drewitt?”
“Teddy O’Toole takes you in, offers you the opportunity to accompany him and you greedily take that companionship. Now, he demands you fetch and you are all but on your way to doing as your master commands.”
“He wants an ingredient and like a good little canine, you’re going to trot off and gather it for him, aren’t you?”
“If he told you to sit, you’d sit.”
“If he told you to stay, you’d stay.”
“But the longer you serve your master, the wearier you get. The longer you obey every command, the sooner it is that there will come a time when you refuse.”
“When my canine stopped listening to my commands, I knew the time was coming. When he stopped doing exactly as I asked and started to think for himself, as if he had full control of his own being without consequences or repercussions, I knew that the end was nigh.”
“That dog, fed up of obeying my every command, struck at me with great toothy vengeance. He bit rabidly into my flesh and tore at it. That little canine bit me, Drewitt.”
“So, I put it down.”
“Don’t you think Teddy O’Toole is the same?”
“Yet your time frame is hardly that long – you see, you’re doing as you’re told and listening to the commands of your master. You’re going to hunt for the ingredient and fetch for him, exactly what he needs. But what happens when you decide you’ve had enough of obeying commands? What happens when you no longer want to listen and he forces you, so you attack, Drewitt?”
“I know what happens.”
“Because you, and every dog like you, who crosses the line between obey and disobey with great bite, often ends up the same way….”
“In a shallow grave.”
“You’re a dog, Drewitt. You fetch when you’re told, you sit when you’re told and you stay when you’re told.”
“And when you don’t…”
“Bang.”
“Afterall, I’ve done the research, little pup.”