What if dogs ran the world and you were the pet?


“Yaaaaaaawn!” You awake after a long nights sleep, only something’s wrong. “Uh, why is my back in so much pain?” you think to yourself. Suddenly you realize that you are laying down in a curled up manner. That’s why my back is hurting! But then something you realize something so strange. Something stranger than the fact that people actually enjoy reading books…you are lying at the END of your bed! But there’s more! There’s a black furry creature sleeping where you normally do. What in the world?! Suddenly the doorbell rings, and zoom! The creature in your bed jumps up and runs toward the door, yelping and barking its head off. Wait…yelping and barking? It’s your dog, Rover! Incredibly confused, you get up and slowly exit your (or at least it was your) bedroom. You walk into your kitchen and see Rover as well as another brown dog sitting down at your dining room table, each with a bowl of cereal. Wait, no! It’s kibble with milk! When the Rover sees you he immediately gets up and opens your back door, and gestures with his paw telling you to go outside. You simply stand there and gaze a confused glare into his eyes. The dog gets angry and starts growling. Rover shows his teeth, but you stand there, refusing to submit to this canine. In a fury, Rover slams the door shut, pounces upon you and drags you by you collar (yes, you now realize the shock collar you bought for Rover is around your neck) into a cage. Rover locks it, gives you one final evil glare and leaves. In absolute despair and confusion, you scream and scream and try to break the cage and oh no…you know have to go to the bathroom! Now you beg and plead to be let outside. Rover comes back with a mean look on his face, opens the cage, and you run. You run outside to go to the bathroom. Outside you realize…I must make a break for it. You begin running as fast as you can, but when you get to the edge of your yard, ZAP! Why did I install that invisible fence.


Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute. What is this “If dogs ran the world.”? I mean honestly isn’t there a clear problem with this statement. Obviously this shouldn’t even be called into question. Dogs already do own the world and we are all their pets. I mean look at all the evidence. First of all, look at the big picture. They are obviously very intelligent, because they don’t have to work for their food. They simply order their so called “master”, with that ever so tempting look, to fill the silver dish of happiness with food and water. And what happens? The “master” inevitably obliges them. So they don’t have to do anything but look pleadingly at the “master” to their bowl and they get their food. Secondly, they make their “masters" do a lot for them. One example of this is when they have to go to the bathroom; they make their “master” open the door for them. Also they take their misguided servants on walks. They make sure the leash is on so that they can make sure that their servant keeps up with them. And what if they don’t like their “master” you may ask. That is when they run away, to punish their faithful servants who do everything for them, even giving them back rubs and scratching behind their ears for them. The dogs then after a sufficient interval, to prove their point, find someone in the neighborhood to take them back so they can once again have a servant to wait on them hand and foot. These are only some of the countless things that prove that dogs run the world and we are their pets. See it is all one big conspiracy, that I have figured out, and by reading this, I hope that you too have enlightened to the truth.


Dogs running the world would make the statement: "It's a dog eat dog world." extremely ironic. If this slightly horrific event would take place, the apocalypse would surely break out and the world would become englufled in flames of terror! Imagine the horror of being subjected to the treatment we seem to find petty. Like a noose constricting the breaths of life within you, a collar--seemingly harmless ringed with rhinestones--instantaneously becomes an object of torture! And the horror--OH THE HORROR--of drinking and eating out of bowls! Spoons are forbidden. Dinner would be a challenge unlike any human feat. What about the utter embarrassment of *ahem* "attending to the loo" outdoors? Your neighbors never wanted to know you that well. The senseless babble that dogs speak with would only serve to bewilder you and when you didn't know if "Ruff" or "Yip" was "Sit!"...WHAM! A newspaper right to your derriere (as the french might say). Your head spinning and your legs becoming entangled in the leash as you try to bear crawl everywhere would make your "Shnoogie Puppy" laugh maniacally. Oh and the baby talk. Oh, the baby talk. Devil's tongue. "Oh my poopy woopy snoopy goopy shnoogie boogey!" If your ears are bleeding, you can say you were lucky. How about that dog food? Let me tell you (from PERSONAL experience) when it says "Lamb Chop Flavor!" it does not taste like that. The macabre treatment one would go through as a pet would be life scarring. Invisible fences would shock you at every wrong turn. You would be subjected to hours in a crate...like a prison cell. And everytime someone took you somewhere, you always ended up getting choked by a rope. Baths would be horrorific and tortuous, hosed down like a rioter every five seconds. The pressure on those "mild gardening hoses" can't be legal. Resistence is futile. Try speaking, yelling even, guarenteed someone will tell you to "AW, SHAT UP, POOCH!". Try running and they'll find you, drug you, lock you in a cage until someone "rescues" you and the cycle begins again. Never try anything except civil disobidience. Lest they put you to sleep for being a "public menace." If you think it's dog eat dog right now, what if we actually were treated such as dogs? Remember this golden life lesson next time you want to be a creul animal hater. And give your doggy an extra treat, because if the world turns over one day--if it doesn't just spontaneously combust--you want to be in your new "master's" good graces.

I always thought that those movies like “Aristocats” and “101 Dalmatians” were kind of stupid. I mean, really? Dogs, cats, and other animals can speak English and all understand each other, but it sounds like barks to humans? Yah. Right. Pretty absurd if you ask me…until today. Today, I was walking my dog, Shiloh, and as we were wondering down the street, he started running towards another dog that lives down the street. I struggled to hold him back from “playing” (more like..uh..maybe I shouldn’t mention what dogs DO when they like each other)with this pesky little Chihuahua named Kitten(yes, that really was her name). They were doing what dogs “do” when Kitten came up to me and gnawed on my leg like it was a big, juicy, tasty bone. Ok, maybe it didn’t quite “gnaw” but it definitely felt like I had just spent 20 days in the Antarctic when suddenly my leg was deteriorating because of frostbite..So, basically, it hurt. A LOT. Anyway, I managed to hobble back home to call the ambulance, until I started feeling lightheaded (probably from loss of blood) and then BAM! I was out cold like a turkey that had been sitting in the fridge since LAST Thanksgiving! (Of course, I didn’t know that I had passed out until..well, you’ll see..)So, I woke up, on the sidewalk, pretty frazzled. What happene---STEAK!! Oh yes, juicy, luscious, succulent steak. (WAIT, why do I want steak?!)When I stood up, I heard a chuckle. I looked around when I noticed my next door neighbor, Tiffany, on all fours cackling..Personally, she didn’t look very sane on all fours, so she had NO right to be laughing at me..But, then, her stupid dog, Kitten(yah, the one who bit me) came outside on two feet and yelled, “Tiffany, it’s dinnertime!” WHOH, THAT was NOT natural,(so I thought) But when I got home, Shiloh(on 2 legs) opened the door, and told me that dinner was ready.. “Either I am still knocked out or PSYCHO, cuz this isn’t really happening” I thought. But, as you may have guessed, Shiloh placed my food bowl in front of me(after she slapped me for standing up). I refused to eat that poopy “food”stuff until I got hungry during the night..and..kinda..licked the WHOLE bowl clean( Really, it was tastier then it looked!) The next morning, I was thrown out of the doggy door by Shiloh (why did he even start controlling me?)and was told to “Go potty”. Let’s just say that my “doggy doo” was a little worse than number 2 (closer to liquid, maybe number 3?) I’ve learned that my job is too lick people, eat, go to the bathroom, sleep, do tricks, and to be a pillow(not fun when a chubby dog decides to “cuddle”)..It’s a pretty easy life if you ask me... I’m just glad that Shiloh works all the time because all the parties happen at my “crib.” (For the record, don’t tell ANYONE about this note, because if Shiloh knew I was using all the toilet paper, he’d KILL me!)

Drip. Drip. Drip. What the heck? I open my eyes and squint at an indistinct view of my master Buford. He marches for the kitchen, dragging my torpid derriere to my bowl of my most desired dog food: Iams Healthy Naturals Adult Chicken Dog Food. Hmm…a reduced portion…is Buford trying to tell me something? Whatever, I knew how to work him. I lick that bowl clean and look at him with sullen, pouty human eyes I was aware he could not counterattack, and so Buford gives me another dish. Suckerr. Oh..I could go for another nap, but nooooo Buford hauls my butt to the couch and flashes his dog award-winning, stimulating teeth at me while holding a copy of A Walk to Remember. AGAINNNN!!!! I curl up in my extra-small cushion, rolling my eyes at him. He licks a photograph of his Siberian husky girlfriend and barks an euphoric bark, mocking me, reminding me that he has found love and affection in his life, and not me! Maybe it’s all that food he feeds me. I close my eyes and dream of a universe - a happy universe – where there are no dogs commanding you every day, coercing you of what movies to watch. A different world, free and cheerful, where I could stand up peeing in a toilet, just like Buford.


At the Rocky River Human Park I brought my pet Barack and my friend Amanda brought her pet Sarah and we sat on top of tables and compared our collars. She had a terrific rhinestone collar and I had a turquoise collar, and we discussed the origins of collars and that once humans owned us, and we laughed till be barked at the absurd idea of humans owning anything. Meanwhile, Sarah chased Barack around with a Louisville Slugger bat, and then Barack turned around and chased Sarah with taser, and pretty soon both were bloody and all zapped. Meanwhile Amanda and I dreamed of getting diamond collars from Doggie Emporeum, and we discussed how dogs almost never got into fights, and just as we said that Barack was choking Sarah and Sarah was gouging off the ear of Barack, and Amanda and I ran to the park and got out the fire hoses and sprayed Barack and Sarah a good fifty feet. "Bad people," we cried. "Bad people who can never get along." We threw our pets in their cages. "How come you two get along when you are in cages?" I turned around and shouted. Amanda and I we drove out to Doggie Emporeum and each bought a collar. I love being a dog.



It’s the day that life is turned over to another power- it is going to the dogs…literally. There’s a screeching of metal on metal and in seconds you’re barred in. A giant Labrador head peers through the bars and makes a cooing sound (if you can call it that). A rope is hung around your neck and you are left a bowl of water and a chewy toy. A family walks in (St. Bernards) and you pray they don’t adopt you…those tears in your eyes aren’t because you finally want to get out of this “shelter” but because your life as the family chew toy has just flashed before your eyes. Ahhh they ramble past you and stop at the cage of a little boy named Alfonzo, the last thing you see of him before he is entirely engulfed by saliva and carried away by the big daddy dog are his freaked out eyes. Thank God that’s not you! An elegant couple comes in- a pair of highly bred poodles, they pass the first four cages quickly “Too skinny” “Too fat” “How hideous!” “My goodness, whatever is that?!” until finally they reach you…by this time you are cowering in the corner. Somehow you meet their standards-you are christened ‘Princess MiMi’ and fondled out the door. The rest of your life passes quite mindlessly, with you drinking out of bowls and peeing outside in front of everyone while trying to maintain your dignity, human shows (you win three times and then break your leg trying to jump over a ridiculously high hurdle), and the same exact food DAY AFTER DAY. One day you wonder about what it would be like if humans ruled the world and you wouldn’t have to constantly hear yips and woofs and howls that mean nothing to you…you laugh at the idea and go through the convenient little door to the house and take a well deserved nap.


If we dogs ran the world….well, we already do! Come on dogs, face it, we have complete and total control over our humans! Now let’s say that the spot RIGHT behind your ear that’s just out of reach is itching again, as it usually does in the mid afternoon, so you give your best at scratching it. FAIL. Well, what happens next? Our human waltzes over and scratches right behind our ear for us! Next, let’s consider going to the bathroom. Humans may think they control us by training us to stand at the door when we have to go but the truth is that we WANT to go outside. What humans label as begging, we consider it signaling for our servant to open the door for us. Darn not having opposable thumbs. Convinced dogs are the true masters yet? Well, consider the daily ritual of the walk for a moment. We dogs always lead our kind humans (they’d get lost without us) and the leash is simply to help us keep track of THEM! Humans serve us our food, keep us clean, keep us company when we watch television, and even cook us delicious, savory bacon! Obviously dogs are the masters of humans, the poor ignorant souls.





Dear journal,

Today is February 6th, Bob Marley’s birthday! My birthday is not for another few months. I really wonder what my owner is going to get me! Last year, my owner, Foo-Foo, got me another human to play with! Her name is Susy, and she’s so much fun. Sometimes it gets really lonely being with just dogs all the time. Even though my owners are nice and all, i still need a human every now and then to talk to. My owners can also be kind of mean! One time, my owner was taking me out for a day in the human park, and i was very excited to see all the other humans playing! I was so excited, that i ran out of my owners leash without permission. Oh boy, was Foo-Foo mad at me! She came running at me, growling and baring her teeth, her hind legs forceful with every stride. She was definitely angry. As i was just getting situated with one of my friend’s, Foo-Foo grabbed my leash, I got up and she dragged me all the way back home. As part of my punishment, she decided to run all the way home, me being human, I can’t keep up with her and I get very tired. Then when we finally got home, and she put me in my human house where I jus decided to read. Sometimes, I wish that Foo-Foo was MY pet, but everyone knows that’s just absurd. Oh well, maybe tomorrow will be a better day and MAYBE Foo-Foo will let me go to the human park!

Yours Truly, Cuddle Muffins





Today I woke up and was lying at the foot of my bed… which was strange. Then I noticed that something was in my bed, sleeping where I usually sleep. I quickly rolled over, just as the creature burst up barking at me. I was surprised to realize that it was my dog, Lassie. This was a very odd sight. I then tried to speak to Lassie, but to her it just seemed like I was barking at her, I guess. Later that day I was out lounging in the yard right after I buried my favorite toy in a very secret spot (its right next to the tree) and Lassie came running in. Lassie opened her mouth to speak and the words just came out as barks, but for some reason I understood what she was saying. I responded saying “What’s that Lassie? Timmy’s trapped in a well?” Then Lassie quickly hooked me onto my leash and we went to the city well. We went for a RIDE. I loooove RIDES. The whole way there I couldn’t help but stick my head out the window and smell the entire world.


In a sense, don’t dogs already somewhat own the world? Look at how we love them and treat them on a daily basis! We humans are subservient to the dogs. We buy them food and water and set it before them. We buy them tasty treats to make them happy. We even go outside in the dead of winter when it is 10 degrees with a foot of snow on the ground to make sure they do their business because after all a dog is a man’s best friend! However, we do lock them up in little steel prisons called cages as we set out on our daily lives each day and leave them to sit there with nothing to do. Also, when we take dogs on walks, they are often accompanied by leashes with collars, preventing and restricting them to run free in their natural habitats. And we humans imprison them in backyards with fences. So I dare say that if dogs were to rule over humans, we would be in for a rude awakening! We would be the ones fetching the newspaper every morning for our owner and catching the pesky rodent running around outside! We would be the ones sleeping on a dog bed in the corner of a room while the dogs get to sleep in the warm and comforting beds. The dogs would get to use the showers in the house while we fend for ourselves to wash clean with the hose! And don’t even get me started on the bathroom situation! All in all, dogs ruling over humans is not a pleasant sight.

Good thing I treat my dog with love and compassion because I would freak out if I were in his position. Not being able to go to the bathroom when I please, eating gross kibble from a stinky bowl on the ground, exposing my genitalia to the world; not something I would easily endure. I would in fact, enjoy the constant petting and massaging from my fellow owners. I would be the most high maintenance lap dog there ever was, milking my cute puppy dog face. I would dart outside and run as fast as I could, (now I understand why my dog goes outside for 20 minutes and never comes in when I scream his name for my whole neighborhood to hear) not being aware of time or space, just me and the wind across my face. And then of course there would be the excessive hair, it would serve to keep me warm I guess? But then if it was too long and no one brushed it, it would get all knotty and gross and things would get caught in it. Not fun. But I guess an overall day as a dog wouldn’t be all that bad: not having to get up early, not going to school, not having to shower and get dressed every morning, and getting to sleep all day; count me in.


What if dogs ran the world and people were the pets? Well since they aren't, then why does it matter. Haha just kidding, I will write about it anyways. I don't believe that much would even change, despite the obvious necessary brain swap. The most intelligent being rules the world, so us humans will have to get really dumb and have dogs get really smart, so it wouldn't be to chaotic. I have noticed that many people are writing about turning into a dog, this would not happen, since it is the dogs that rule us, we just get dumber. I believe that life as the pet would be pleasant, dogs get to wake up whenever they want, play whenever they want, and they get food and water provided for them for free, without having to do work. They live without a care in the world. The only possible tragedy that happens for pets is if you get and abusive master, or one who does not take care of you. Even then, running away is always an option. All in all, I believe that being the pet and having the dogs take over would be nice, it would give us humans a well deserved break from being the dominant animal and take a lot of stress off of our minds. I would not mind being the pet for a change. This is only because again, we are not turning into dogs people, we are simply becoming the pets, not a bad idea.

“Woof! Woof!”
“No, Fifi. I hadn’t thought about if there’s other forms of life somewhere out in the universe.”
“Woof!”
“No. I hadn’t thought about the meaning of life either.”
In fact, the only thing that had crossed my mind in the one minute I had been awake was food, food, food.
I stretched and sniffed my way to the table as Fifi read the morning paper. Fife announced, “Ruff! Ruff!” (Nous allons faire une promenade.)
I moaned. “Fifi, you know I can’t understand you when you speak French.”
“Bark!” Fifi apologized. “Bow-wow!” (We are going on a walk.)
Fifi hooked on my leash and I anxiously scampered out the door, Fifi following behind, leash looped around the paw…
It is said that cockroaches are indestructible and will soon rule the world with all the power they hold, but clearly, through this glimpse in the future, we see that dogs will, in fact, be the masters of the earth.
So forget cockroaches- one day dogs will rule this human-dominated society we know and love today

People love dogs. Young dogs, old dogs. A box of puppies on the street attracts a crowd, even if the canine has so many wrinkles you can't tell where its eyes are, or drools so much you could swim a 50 free in its pool. But if the roles were reversed...if humans were the ones who the ones being picked out of cardboard box, the dogs may be a little bit tougher on us. Humans are so physically different...there are fat ones, skinny ones, humans with black hair, blonde hair, blue hair even. Dogs love their masters no matter what, but when they become the man of the house, opinions may change. Lets face it, humans have attitudes, both male and female. We all have people who we like and dislike. Would dogs be the same? Would they treat us with respect or show us so much hate we slide to the ground with our tails between our legs? The correct answer: both. Anyone in the leadership position shows both characteristics, dogs are no exception. Maybe I'm thinking too deeply into this. Maybe if dogs ruled the world, we would have to learn how to drink without our hands and pee with one leg up in the air (which would be insanely difficult). Something I'm not completely okay with...so maybe I'll just stick with human domination now.



A Memoir: Owned by the Subordinate Species
My earliest memory is the separation of my mother and me. After being taken away, I was put into a glass box in a store where I was scrutinized day in, day out by dogs who kept saying how cute I was, please can we get her Daddy? Almost a year passed- I had no hope of being adopted: something based truly on looks. Finally adopted, I was dubbed "Barky." A box with a lock was to be my home; a ridiculous necklace that chaffed my skin was to be worn at all times. Humiliatingly, I was forced to learn how to urinate every fifteen minutes and was at the mercy of the girl: if she forgot to take me outside, I had to hold my bladder or else be smacked and barked stern words at. If I was taken outside, I was supposed to expose myself- rain or shine- and allow the wastes to remove themselves from my body. Simply mortifying. A bowl, painted silver and of the cheapest quality, was filled every week with nauseating dry pellets: my dinner. The twin silver bowl to the right was for water; water which would quickly become infected with dirt and dust. As a young child, fetch was my favorite game- it never got old- my master, however, felt differently. I would receive a sharp bark when she was done playing, and was supposed to go away. When friends visited, I was to cope with them braiding my hair and hugging me close for hours on end. When they did not want to play, I was to fall asleep in each of their laps and look cute. Not allowed up the stairs or in certain rooms, I spent most of my time confined within a barred prison, let out occasionally to be taken far away, only to be stabbed with sharp objects that made me feel woozy. I could not understand this strange phenomenon, I was "loved" but treated poorly- and finally could not take it. I had to leave. I escaped during "potty time" and ran as fast and hard as I could- true freedom. I found an underground league for run-away humans and joined it. I have been scarred for life- one can only take so much abuse in a lifetime. All I ask for in life is love- someone to care for me and treat me right. Is that too much to ask?!