A Dog Waste Goose World


I lost six geese and a duck to a dog.

I liked the duck.

I want to kill that dog.

We don’t know how many of our other birds have vanished because of this nameless raider. There are foxes and coyotes that have made off with one or two in the past. But we know that the geese and the duck were killed by a dog.

Nothing else is so destructive and wasteful.

I’m excluding humans.

A fox takes a goose to eat. A goose. Takes it. Away.

Because he’s hungry, and knows he shouldn’t stick around where there are humans.

Same for a coyote.

A dog kills as many as he can catch.

For kicks. Cause he can.

And leaves their broken bodies scattered everywhere.

Granted he doesn’t really understand what he’s doing. The honking flapping birds are just exciting toys to him.

He doesn’t know that he’s destroying a human’s pets and property.

Or that his own life is legally forfeit if he’s caught.

So really, it’s the humans who let him out who are responsible.

Which means, as expected, it is the humans who are so destructive and wasteful.

Wasteful by owning an animal because it’s cute and not understanding its nature.

Wasteful for letting it run as if it wasn’t bred for a thousand and more years for hunting and killing.

And doing so in farmland where their neighbors raise prey animals.

Maybe they didn’t let it out. Maybe it jumped its fence and ran off, rejoicing in freedom stolen when no one was looking, unconcerned about the consequences and discipline that might come once caught, not knowing that its masters themselves might turn it over to death if they knew.

Perhaps it wasn’t even an owned dog, but a stray. Stealing food, but unafraid of humans and so loathe to leave such a delightful pastime.

Breaking beautiful necks is a joy to a dog. It’s what he does.

There are breeds you should not leave your children with.

This is a hard world.

Do you know that?

I forgot that.

I come to believe the hype that I deserve, that peace can be owned in this broken life, that complacency is the ideal state of things, rather than a sin.

Disaster wakes me. Repossesses the happiness that is doing me no favors and gives me anxious questioning in its place.

Questioning that leads to deeper peace.

Bedrock peace.

Peace that doesn’t need an untouched flock to know that God is good.

Or a dogless world to be unafraid.


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