Different Perspective: Dog
I can feel it. He is going to do it again. Why doesn’t he understand that the thing he holds in his hand is not a toy? In his hands is a delicate globular body which holds a universe of life. It started as a dot. The beginning, where there was previously nothing. Growing in all directions to become an infinite set of points equidistant from the center in 3d space, resulting in a surface bounded to that starting point. Oh how wretched is this human throwing the ball unable to comprehend what he holds in his hand. Does he not know the sphere’s proper place? He acts like his actions have no influence on it as if it were obsolete. As if it were only for his pleasure so he can laugh at it while he destroys it. There it goes flying through the air. My heart yearns to catch it and yet the more I try and save it the more futile my efforts feel. Holding it in my mouth I cover it with my saliva hoping to protect it from any damage. Doing the best I can. Never enough. My influence on this human is hopeless. Like a circle empty. As I hold it in my mouth my owner calls me back. I cannot help but walk towards him. I cannot undo the social condition I was injected with as a puppy. He asks for the globe and I give in. My desire to please is too strong. He is my master. I am a mere slave.
M. S. Dawood