Vito. My sweet and doughty boy. I understand your plight better than you may think. In an ideal world, this is not the life I would have chosen for you, nor for myself. Alas, this was the only world to offer us an invitation, and now our paths have aligned and become one.
Believe me when I say that I would much prefer you to lead your own life. I want you to run freely, exploring high hills and putting your swimming skills to the test daringly across rivers and lakes. To know that you were out there, safe from harm and free from arrogantly imposed decisions on how you should live your life; this would be a profound source of happiness for me.
Regretfully, this is not a possibility. The harsh truth is that any opportunity for an unmolested relationship with nature has been stolen from you. To leave you out in the cold is to live the rest of my days tormented by the knowledge that I sent you to your doom. Whether you would be captured, killed, or simply starve to death, I do not know. But I know that I will not have your demise on my conscience.
So no, my boy. Your life is not a fair one, but it's the one you have been given, and it is within neither of our power to change that. I know you think I'm too harsh on you. More of your time is spent in timeout than out of it lately. There is a fire of rebellion burning brightly within you, and I offer you my apologies, because you likely adopted this trait from me. I see the way you look at me when I send you to the corner for breaking a rule. Go there when you're told you may, but not without communicating to me that you don't think you should have to.
You're right. You should not have to. However, you do have to. Still two and a half months away from your first birthday, yet already you are larger than most other dogs we encounter on our daily walks. You are beginning to realise that, before long, you will be King of the Kelvin. When you escape the clutches of adolescence, you will step into the role of a natural alpha, and every other dog on that river shall know it.
I too am coming to a realisation of my own, however. With this new found clarity, it has become glaringly obvious that whether your role of alpha will be exercised through benevolence or malevolence, will be determined by these following months. This has become a matter of life and death, for us both. If a day shall come when my negligent tolerance results in you demonstrating your dominance through means of violence, against another dog, or God forbid a human, they will try and take you away from me. I know you know that I would not allow this, I care not who demands it, or the authority with which they claim to have the power to do so. My boy. I swear to you I will die before I allow anyone to take you from me, and this is why you must live the life of a slave until you need no commands at all to know how you should behave.
If I tell you to come; you must come. If I tell you to sit; you must sit. If I tell you stop barking; you must stop barking. It may seem like it to you, but I assure you that I do not tell you these things just to make myself feel powerful. Much to the contrary, my ego dislikes having to tell you to do things. But following rules for you must be instinctive. There can be no room for questions, and certainly none for disobedience. If the time arises that you no longer feel I am worthy of obeying, then you will begin to make your own rules, and this shall get us both into a lot of trouble.
This Vito, is why you must do as you're told, when you're told, whether you believe you should have to or not. It is shit, I know. But, would you believe me if I told you that this life of yours is worthy of envy? There is liberty at the end of a leash. More liberty than I have for sure. When we arrive at the river every day, and I take your lead from around your neck and tell you to go, this is the time I envy you, Vito. Your face is instantly painted with joy, your steps adorned with a spring of enthusiasm, and your tail afflicted with a seizure of excited wagging.
In this moment, you taste a freedom that has forever evaded me. You see, my boy, you're not the only one who lives on the end of a leash. The difference lies in the honesty of your leash. You can see it, smell it, and feel it over your neck. I make no attempt to hide its purpose. It is there so that you do not run in the road, or towards children or other people. My leash does not go around my neck, though it is far tighter and certainly intended to suffocate. My master's leash is not honest, like yours. It likes to play pretense, masquerading as the key to the very freedom that it prevents me from obtaining. Be grateful, my boy, that you do not have to suffer through my restraints, or those of my fellowman. For it is money that we serve, and you are freer than we to live without need of it.
Never will you have to worry about whether you will have a roof above your head on a cold night. No day will ever pass where you will have to question whether you will get to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. You needn't bother yourself with the wasteful task of acquiring more bits of paper in order to survive on the land you were born on. You need only eat, play, shit, eat, play, shit, eat, play, shit and repeat. Perhaps, my boy, you are freer than you will ever understand. You have me to depend on, and you always will. I have been forced to depend on a system that does not seek to see me thrive the way I do with you. But instead tries its hardest to ensure that I do not reach my full potential, for it is the fulfillment of potential that is most threatening to the existence of that very system of oppression.
I tried to escape it once, Vito. I really did. But, ironically, it is you that has forced me back into it willingly. I want the best for you. I want you to have the organic food, the high quality treats, the toys, the fancy bed, and anything else that will make your time on this Earth more comfortable and enjoyable. For this to happen, I must bow before my master and ask him politely to put me back on the leash, all so that I might be able to keep you on yours.
No, Vito. This is not the life I would have chosen for either of us. But, I am glad that we have found ourselves sharing these lives of slavery together.
