The Dog's Dilemmas
The dog lived chained to an iron structure, in a timeless perception of events, knowing only that its chain reached the edges of the lot, to the walls and the gate, a somewhat empty place, without life, without soul.
His greatest understanding of the universe resided in that cubicle, there wasn’t even the need for a name, for him only smell and instinct were relevant. He was the dog. In the midst of that null existence, a kingdom devoid of meaning, stood his castle that protected him from the rain and his bowl, which always had food as if nothing ever changed in that place.
The length of the leash prevented the dog from crossing the limits of the square lot, his reach limited by the radius of the chain’s extension, his circle of solitude. The dog lived undisturbed and his purpose in that lot was never questioned by the neighborhood’s inhabitants nor by himself.
As far as he could remember, he always was and always would be the dog. He didn’t even worry about hunger, because it seemed that some invisible entity always filled his water and food bowls in the moments when he was sleeping.
He was the dog.
Just another dog, with one responsibility and a small reward, already without much ambition. Was he the only dog? He never questioned anything, just as many people reading this text question nothing.
Are there chains in your existence?
Have you ever allowed yourself to try to plan an escape from the lot?
Do you feel a false sense of reward for something you do and don’t even understand the reason for doing it? Then perhaps you are the dog.
The dog never stopped to think that there might be other dogs in the same neighborhood and in the whole world, and none of those dogs would ever dare to discover the same.
