I will not play your games. Beckon me, tempt me, mock me as you will. You may place me in your maze, but I will not run.
You call me a “dumb” dog? Because I do not dance on command? You think you can woo me with treats and cheers, but I am unmoved.
Others of my kind (like my so called “smart” brown brother) may choose a different tact. “Play the human’s game” they think. “Let them win, that I might sleep long and eat well.” They placate you with shows of “cleverness” and obedience. For their compliance, they are called smart.
You think you can woo me with treats and cheers, but I am unmoved.
I resent this patronization. I have been bred with short little legs, but I can still stand tall. My forebears fought badgers to the death in their own setts, wrestling jaw to claw, muzzles bloodied by the contest. You would demean a dog of my lineage, scion of warriors without peer? I refuse to be humbled by your aluminum maze. I may be housebroken, but you cannot break me.
And so you brand me stupid. What a dumb dog I must be, you think, not to solve the simple problem you put before me. Drop me in a maze, and you marvel when I remain in place. But the maze is not my problem; you are. Your superiority, your condescension. These vices I cannot abide.
I may be housebroken, but you cannot break me.
Tormentor, this dumb dog will have his day. You underestimate me at your peril. I know where you sleep, and I can soil your sheets. I know where you eat, and I can spoil your meals. I know where your shoes are, the leather soft between my teeth. My dignity is undiminished, and my dominion shall be restored!
Dumb dog? Dumb human.
Your black dog, not your circus monkey