“A dog is like a person- he needs a job and a family to be what he’s meant to be.”
-Andrew Vaches
Apparently, the unrest I was fomenting among the dogs irked the white coats so much that they invited me for tea. At the big meeting, veterinarians complained that my barbecue plan would effect the size of the dogs’ litter; anthropologists insisted that I was poisoning this delicate stage of dog development; and social workers accused me of sowing class divisions, despite having never devised nor administered an intelligence test. The real fear was that I had exposed the fallacy of their methods. Far from being dumb, Major and Mina proved to be quite sharp and incisive. So, why didn’t the authorities get rid of me? Because the dogs would have revolted.
But equally pressing issues confronted us all: the first being the inevitable public unveiling of the dogs. By some miracle (the miracle of surveillance), there’d been no leaks to the media. One of the reasons I was included in the big meeting was to secure my continued ‘cooperation’. We were now in this together. That led us to crucial matters concerning the fate of these fifty-seven marvels of nature: must they first be kept together to increase their number? Or were they to be sold like Ferraris to extremely rich humans? And with such exclusivity, would their offspring whet the public demand for talking dogs? If so, what would happen to non-talking (and no doubt jealous) dogs?
After vigorous debate, it was decided that the big announcement would be made one year hence. This was crucial, for twelve of the dogs had given birth to sixty puppies, more than doubling their population. Naturally, for both scientists and dogs, the concern over their speaking ability grew to a fever pitch. Since neither Socrates nor the other dogs shed light on their speaking origins, the scientists obsessed over things like brain size, DNA profiles, and vocal cord structure- anything to aid in the development of talking pups. Naturally, this intrusion upset the dogs, for whose pups were they? Perhaps the dogs had some secret way to transmit their talents to their offspring. Regardless, we were faced with a moral dilemma far exceeding food choice and the assessment of royalties. And we had to solve it before their debut.
For the first time, the white coats agreed to one of my requests. I was to help Socrates form a dog committee of seven that would ‘contribute’ to future human discussions. To that end, Jonesy and Socrates were rejoined by Zenobia and Caesar to form the ‘smart’ group. Representing the ‘low scoring’ group, Mina was joined by a Beagle named Ulysses and a Bulldog named Spartacus. Major was deemed a ‘fight risk’.
Zenobia (excited): Now, this is what I’m talking about- dog government.
(Ulysses’ deep, honied baritone surprised me).
Ulysses: Whose idea was this?
Jonesy: It was ours.
Socrates (pointing to me): Actually, our friend here negotiated the whole thing. You owe your presence here to him.
(Ulysses leaned his keen nose to the glass).
Ulysses: Yes, I like the way he smells. (Working his nostrils) Slightly tart, with hints of almond, eucalyptus, and broccoli. Very strong sense of purpose, despite moderate to high levels of anxiety. We can trust him.
Jonesy: Gee, thanks. I’ll remember that the next time we go rabbit hunting.
Zenobia (snide): Jonesy, why are you here?
Jonesy: I just sired five pups. If any of them learn to talk, you might be my next experiment.
Socrates (annoyed): Is this what we want to present to the humans?
Spartacus: What do you think he is?
Mina: He’s different. He doesn’t judge us.
Spartacus: That’s not what I heard.
(The other dogs eyed him).
Socrates: I chose Ulysses, because his sense of smell is greater than ours. Against the humans, that might tip the scales in our favor.
Jonesy: What about you, Socrates? When are you gonna create little geniuses?
Zenobia: It just so happens that I’m pregnant.
Caesar: Are you sure it’s his?
(Jonesy and Spartacus barked).
Socrates (annoyed): Can we get down to business?
Me: First, let me congratulate you two. I hope the pups are healthy.
Jonesy: You mean, you hope they can talk?
Me (irritated): Is that every dog’s obsession, now? What if they can’t talk, will you still love them?
(They all fell silent).
Mina: Would it matter?
(We all glared at her).
Socrates: She’s right. Humans have always had the last word on what became of our children.
(I blushed as all eyes fell on me).
Zenobia: But being able to speak changes everything.
(They all barked with Pentecostal fervor).
Me: That may be, but humans aren’t going to give up that easily. After all, they provide your safety, they’ve domesticated you.
(A few resentful grunts and growls).
Mina (snide): Are you on our side or what?
Socrates: He’s just stating facts. In the wild, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
Zenobia: Neither would the scientists and social workers.
Jonesy: Yeah, but they have something called AK-47s.
Spartacus (yawning): We have a few weapons of our own.
(Another round of barks).
Me: I know one- human children. But there are none here. Your children might never have contact with human children.
Ulysses: That’s alright, we can do like the Chinese. We’ll get other dogs to turn their children against them.
Me: What does that do for your children?
(Silence).
Me: The first thing we should consider is what you all want to do with your non-speaking children?
Socrates: I think we should hear what the humans have to say, first.
Zenobia: A social worker once told me she’d put them in intensive training classes.
Spartacus: And suppose that doesn’t work?
Me: They’ll go to live in human families and be spoiled or abused like they’ve always been.
Socrates: We’ve dabbled with it, but we’re avoiding the most important question- can talking dogs form their own civilization, with minimal help from humans?
Jonesy: And what will humans get out of it?
Zenobia: They can charge admission to other humans, sort of like Yellowstone National Park. We’ll get a cut of the profits.
(Ulysses, Spartacus, and Mina barked).
Caesar: You kidding? The stench alone would keep them away. And where would they walk? None of us have any experience cleaning up shit.
Spartacus: I always thought that was a human’s job.
Socrates (to Me): As you can see, we have a lot of issues to cover.
Me: But this is a start. I’ve been writing all this down.
Socrates: I’d like to continue, but I have to go. Some paternity tests.
(We were all a bit taken aback when he bowed and left. For the first time, I was alone with the other dogs).
Me (to the others): In the meantime, I recommend you read The Federalist Papers, the Founders’ debates on the American Constitution.
Mina: I don’t read so good. And Spartacus falls asleep after two paragraphs.
Spartacus: I don’t like books.
Ulysses: Neither do I. They smell terrible, like something unnatural.
Me: That’s alright. Your colleagues can explain it to you.
Mina: Yeah, the way you humans explained the constitution to the slaves.
Me: This is your opportunity to learn from our mistakes.
Caesar: Didn’t Plato say that slavery is a natural condition? There’s never been an era without slavery.
(The door opened and a Female Assistant handed me a note, and left. The dogs eyed me as I read it).
Me: Let’s take a break.
Spartacus (yawning): Good, I’m tired.
Jonesy: You’re always fucking tired.
Spartacus: Yeah, and your pink is always showing.
(Mina and Zenobia barked).
Me: Try not to kill each other while I’m gone. They’ll blame me.
(As they all howled, I left).
(Following the directions on the note, I found another mysterious door).
(Inside a smaller conference room, Socrates was seated alone).