Dog Farther Underwater
I am a dog and I think with a dog mind so that I look at things and see it through a dog lens. You think I see a cat and imagine something to chase. I do not. I cannot tell you what I imagine. It’s not a secret. I can try. Sure. It involves a small amount of geometry. Do you know about isosceles triangles? That’s a start. Now think of a woodpecker. And a hummingbird. The difference in their beaks. Now think about a cat’s prone spine. We’re getting there. I can’t take you much further. Or farther. You can’t see underwater. It’s blurry. But a fish, they must see clear as a bell, right? I don’t know if they do either. But now we’re as far as I take you.
So when I sit on the lap of the body who follows me and we ride the subway I will sometimes take an outward posture. I will sit erect. I won’t bark. Ever notice how rarely dogs bark on the subway? Have you imagined why? It’s not the deafening screech of metal. Or not exactly. I’m getting distracted. Sometimes I sit erect and the train’s crowded. And sometimes people stand right in front of me. I won’t move. And I sit with my nose inches from a crotch. Do I think of biting the crotch?
We’re a little back to the cat. Have you noticed how certain dyes don’t mix with other dyes. I don’t mean oil and water. I mean colors. When you mix two colors and they make an awful color. You didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. Or you don’t know “color theory.” But some colors are just awful. We can agree on that. That feeling around an awful color? That starts the conversation around biting. Then there’s the way the body who follows me holds my hind legs. She rests both her hands on them. Once I leapt away. We don’t have time to explain that. But her bronze ring presses against my better kidney. You don’t notice your better kidney? You notice your better hand, why not your better kidney? She presses her bronze ring against it. That doesn’t make me bite the crotch. But we’re getting closer.
