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Author's note: My family just bought a new dog. I couldn't help but ponder what she was thinking as she wagged her tail. Her naive wonder caused me to write this piece. I wanted to explore the loyalty of a Dog and at what point that loyalty is destroyed.
I see colors. It is green. It is grass, so it must be green. But this might be red because green is not red. Green is never red. Is this red? Grass is green. Why is this grass red? Is it yellow? It is green. Grass is green. It is the same color as the trees. The same color as an emerald. It is not the same color as blood. Blood is red. So this is either green or red. Apples are both green and red. There are no apples around. Just the green, green grass. Red, red grass? My goal is to make it into the blue sky. And there will be the man. In the red sky. He is there. Covered in his own blood. Blood is red. My blood is red. This grass is green. He will wait for me there. He is my owner. I want him. Further and further I go, leg before leg before leg and why am I not there? He is sad. And his blood is not the color of grass. His blood keeps coming and coming and coming and my legs keep going and going and going. My head hit the wall. I bleed too. But now my blood is red. My blood was always red. My blood was never green. Grass is green. I am running over grass. I am surrounded in green. My owner is bleeding red. Red and green don’t mix. Red is red. Green is green. Blue is orange. I am orange. The sky is blue. Am I blue or orange? I am blue. The sky is orange. I will always be orange and the sky will always be blue and grass will always be green and blood will always be red. So I must be orange, surrounded by green, under the blue sky, running towards red blood. My head hits the wall. My head hits the wall. And I bleed. And my blood is red. And my owner is orange and red and waiting for me. And my owner is covered in blood. And my owner and I are both red. And I cannot reach my owner. And I run. And I run harder. And I run harder. And I am orange. And the sky is blue. And the grass is not there. I still run. I run on no grass. I run on no ground. But I still run. The sky is not blue. There is no sky. I am not orange. I do exist. My owner is not red. My owner is not there. I am here. And I am running. My owner is gone but I am still running. I am running on nothing. Into nothing. My head never hit any walls. I can see for miles. I am my owner. ROUP! ROUP! I am my owner. Sit. My owner. No. Don’t sit. Keep running. One foot in front of the other. For me. And I can see all of the colors. All together. Each one existing sepratley yet displayed together. I can see the colors. Red is red. Blue is blue. Green is green. Orange is orange. LIGHT! Colors. LIGHT! Light. Light. Red is grey. Blue is grey. Green is grey. Orange is grey. Light. I am in my house. I am not in my room. I know this room, but I am not in my room. ROUP! ROUP! This is my house. I know this room. ROUP! ROUP! ROUP! My room is upstairs. The grey room. This room is grey, but this is not my room. If I go upstairs, I will get to my room. I know how to get upstairs. In order to get upstairs you need to walk up the stairs. I am scared of going down the stairs. I am not scared of going down the stairs anymore, but I used to be scared of going down the stairs. At the top of the stairs was upstairs and at the bottom was down stairs. I am downstairs right now and my room is upstairs. My owner’s room is my room. The television is on and I was asleep, so my owner must be here. I cannot fall asleep without my owner. My owner is on the couch. This is the room where my owner watches the television. She will sit in on the sofa. I am not allowed on the sofa. I was allowed on the sofa, but now I am not because I was allowed and then there were long holes in the sofa. I like the sofa. I can lie next to my owner on the sofa. I can sink into the sofa. I can be the sofa. The sofa is grey. My owner is on the sofa. I am on the sofa. I am off the sofa. My paws hurt. I am on the sofa. I am off the sofa and my owner is yelling.
“Down. Now. Bad!”
My paws hurt and my ears hurt and I have done something wrong, because if I had done something right, my paws would not hurt and my ears would feel good and my owner would be smiling. My owner is not smiling and her eyebrows are running towards her nose so I have done something wrong. I don’t remember what I did wrong. I am on the sofa. I am off the sofa. My paws hurt. My owner is off the sofa. I am off the ground. I am soaring. My owner’s hands are soft. My owner’s hands smell like vanilla. My owner’s hands taste sour. My owner’s hands do not taste like vanilla. My owner’s hands are soft and smell like vanilla and they must taste like vanilla too. They taste sour. They are grey and vanilla is white so they cannot be vanilla. They smell as if they were vanilla, but they taste sour. They taste sour because I have done something wrong. If I was a good boy, they would taste like vanilla and not sour because they smell like vanilla. When I am a good boy, my owner’s hands smell like Salami or Bologna. I can try to taste my owner’s hands but then there is Salami or Bologna on the floor and I forget about my owner’s hands because I like Salami or Bologna. Then there is no Salami or Bologna on the ground because I can taste Salami or Bologna and I want to taste my owner’s hands but my owner’s hands don’t smell like Salami or Bologna anymore. They smell like vanilla, but they taste sour so I have done something wrong and I am a bad dog.
My paws do not hurt but my paws are cold because I was on warm inside grass, but now I am on wood and wood is cold. I am not in my room, but this is the room where I get Salami or Bologna. I am not getting Salami or Bologna now because my owner is not smiling. I am hungry though because the sun is hot. When the sun gets this hot, I get hungry, then I eat, then I am not hungry anymore and the sun is less hot. My owner pours the food into my bowl. It is not Salami or Bologna, but it makes me not hungry. I can’t really taste the food, but it goes into my stomach and I am not hungry anymore and now I am not full anymore so I will eat this food that I cannot taste. I cannot taste it, but I know it exists because after I eat it, I am not hungry anymore. The food is in little balls. The balls are green but they might be red. I never eat the balls in my room. I am not in my room. My room is upstairs and I would like to be in my room. My owner is in my room, but my owner is now here and she is pouring the balls into my bowl and she is not smiling because I am not a good boy but her eyebrows are not running towards her nose because I am not a bad boy. I am not bad and I am not good but I do exist because I see this room but I don’t know what color this room is, but I eat in this room. There is a table that is higher than me in this room and when the table smells good there will be food on the floor that isn’t Salami or Bologna but isn’t little tasteless balls and I eat it then more will fall from where Phoebe is sitting, and then my owner will get mad at Phoebe for wasting her food and then my owner will tell my owner not to yell at Phoebe. Phoebe’s hands smell like chocolate. They do not taste like chocolate but they might taste like chocolate, but I get yelled at if I taste chocolate and I do not get yelled at when I taste Phoebe’s hands. Phoebe is not my owner. Phoebe will smile when she sees me, and Phoebe will stroke my orange-green hair. Phoebe scratches my stomach but Phoebe does not yell at me so Phoebe is not my owner and my owner and my owner yell at Phoebe so my owner and my owner must be Phoebe’s owners too. Phoebe’s hair is the color of Gold, but it might be the color of trees, but it might be the color of plums. Food falls from where Phoebe sits. At the round table. Next to the window. My bowl is also next to the window and right now my bowl has little balls in it and the little balls smell like tree bark, but they taste like nothing. I eat nothing after nothing and I am not hungry anymore. But I am not in my room, and my owner is in my room, but my owner is right here. If I leave my owner, I will be a bad boy, but my room is upstairs and I am downstairs because my owner is downstairs, but my owner is in my room because my owner sleeps in my room and my owner sleeps in my room as well, but my owner must not be sleeping right now, because she is where I eat, but my owner is not where I eat, so he might be in my room, sleeping. I am thirsty, but there is no water in my bowl. There is water in the pool outside, but if I drink that water I am a bad boy. My owner is thirsty too because she is pouring herself water, although this can’t be water because water is clear and this is grey. It is grey water, but I want water and there is no water in my bowl so I jump up to get the grey water, and my owner drops the grey water and the grey water is all over the ground and there are broken pieces of blood. The grey water does not taste like clear water. It is bitter. I do not like the grey water at all, but it is there and I am thirsty, and my tongue still drinks. I don’t want anymore, but it is still there, so my tongue still drinks. I am in my small room. I can see colors because my head hurts. The top of my head feels very cold. I am all over the ground. This is my blood so it must be red, although this might be green. My leg will not move. My stomach is cool and red is getting all over the floor. It might be green getting all over the floor, but blood is red and this is blood. All blood is red. This must be red. My owner is mad, so I must be a bad dog. I am thirsty and my leg will not move so I cannot get my bowl so I must not have a bowl so it must not have water in it. I am thirsty and blood is red water. And there is blood on my tongue. I do not like red water. The red water makes me shiver because it is blood, but there is more on the ground. There is more on my tongue. My stomach hurts but there is more on the ground and there is no water in my bowl so there is more on my tongue. Blood must last forever because there is more and more on the ground but there is more and more on my tongue. My face becomes really tight. My face will not let my tongue have anymore red water because red water is blood. There is still more on the ground, but my face is really tight. My tongue goes through my face. There is more on my tongue.
I am in the room where I eat and the grey water is on the ground. It is bitter. It is not salty. This is not my room. My owner is not angry but my owner is not happy. My owner still exists because I can see her, although my owner might not exist because I cannot see him, but he might be in my room because he might be sleeping and he sleeps in my room. I want to be in my room but my room is upstairs and I am downstairs and my owner is downstairs. If my owner is downstairs and I am upstairs and my owner is not sleeping, neither of my owners will exist. Then I will not exist. I am with my owner now. We exist. I am not hungry anymore so I may not exist, but my owner is here so I exist. There is no food falling from where Phoebe is sitting because she is not sitting there. I am not licking up grey water because there is none left. I am not licking up red water because red water is blood I cannot see red. Although the grey water could be red, and I would see green. I am not in my room because my owner is not sleeping; my owner is standing. I want to go to my room because my owner might be sleeping there. If my owner is sleeping in my room, I could sleep in my room and I would exist upon waking. Phoebe is not in my room because Phoebe doesn’t exist at night. It is not night because my owner is awake. My owner could be sleeping but my owner would be sleeping if it was night and my owner was sleeping. My owner is awake so it must be day and my owner is sleeping. Or my owner does not exist, but my owner exists so I exist unless I am sleeping and wake up with Phoebe and it is nighttime. I see colors at nighttime but I do not like nighttime because my owners do not exist at night. My owners are sleeping and they exist and I try to make them exist but I never do. They do not exist but in the grey they exist. And Phoebe exists in the grey, but Phoebe does not exist in my room in the grey but she exists at he table in the grey because she gives my food that I can taste and it makes me not hungry, but if I have it she is still hungry so she must exist because hungry is existence.
My owner is not in my room because my owner exists and my owner tastes my owner. My owner is not in my room and my owner is not sleeping so my room does not exist, so it is not nighttime so my owners will exist.
“Jax! Jaxy-boy, want to go for a ride?”
My owner just said, “Jax,” and my owner says, “Jax,” when I am about to get food. I am not hungry but I want food because food makes you less hungry. My owner is walking out of the kitchen, but I get food in the kitchen, but my owner said the word he says when I get food so I follow my owner. My owner is smiling. His teeth are small and I can see them. His eyes do not match his mouth. When I can see his teeth because he is smiling I can see his eyes too. I can see his eyes, but I cannot see all of his eyes. His eyes match when I cannot see his mouth because it is closed and it points towards me. His eyes match when my owner’s voice hurts my ears, while his voice doesn’t exist and his ears must hurt too because I cannot see his eyes and his mouth is closed and pointing towards me. I can see his teeth when he gives me food that I can taste because I’ve been a good boy. I might get food that I can taste because I can see his teeth, but when his mouth points towards me I never get food, but he does touch my hair. He touches my hair when I can see his teeth too, but when I cannot see his teeth he touches my hair softer and slower and his hands are shaking. And our eyes match. And we are not in the kitchen and we are in…
THE CAR ROOM. WE ARE IN THE CAR ROOM. I GO IN THE CAR ROOM WHEN I AM GOING TO GO IN THE CAR. IF I GO IN THE CAR ROOM WHEN I’M NOT GOING IN THE CAR, I’M A BAD BOY. I AM NOT A BAD BOY BECAUSE MY OWNER’S EYEBROWS ARE NOT GROWING ON HIS NOSE AND I CAN SEE HIS TEETH. WHEN I AM NOT A BAD BOY, AND I AM IN THE CAR ROOM, AND I CAN SEE MY OWNER’S TEETH, I AM GOING IN THE CAR. IF I GO IN THE CAR, I WILL GET OUT OF THE CAR AND I WILL NOT BE ME ANYMORE. I WILL STILL EXIST, BUT I WILL NOT BE ME BECAUSE I WILL NOT BE IN THE CAR ROOM, AND I WILL NOT BE IN THE KITCHEN, AND I WILL NOT BE IN THE ROOM WITH THE TV AND THE COUCH, AND I WILL NOT BE IN THE ROOM WHERE PHOEBE TASTES ROUP! ROUP! I DO NOT LIKE THAT ROOM BECAUSE THEY SMELL FROM COLORS, BUT I WILL NOT BE IN THAT ROOM. I WILL NOT BE IN my room. My owner could exist in my room right now, sleeping. My owner is in the car room but my owner is not in the car room. She was in the kitchen. She was in the kitchen because I was hungry and now I do not exist, but I do exist because my owner is here and we are in the car room. Now my owner is in my room. My room is colorless and looks like the kitchen. My room does not look like the kitchen. Phoebe is in the kitchen and Phoebe is not in my room. My room has a big TV and couches but it does not have any couches and the TV is quite small.
THE CAR DOOR IS OPEN AND I AM IN THE CAR AND MY PAWS DO NOT HURT SO I WILL NOT BE ME AND MORE AND I CANNOT SEE ALL OF MY OWNER’S EYES and his mouth is pointing towards me. The car room doesn’t exist anymore because the light eats it all up and the light is not hungry anymore, but the light still exists because I exist.
And I am living. I know I am living because I can feel life. And I can taste life. And life is all over me. I am life. There is light. And there is cool. And there is life. And there is me. And we all exist and so we all are life and we all are light and we all are color. I cannot see color. Color is color. Red is red. Green is green. Yellow is yellow. Orange is orange. Purple is purple. I do not know this. I cannot see any of them, so they might all be the same. But they all are. They will always be. Phoebe knows this. My owner knows this. My owner knows this. My owner knows this. I do not know this. I trust Phoebe and I trust my owner and my owner and my owner. Phoebe is pink. My owner is purple. My owner is blue. My owner is yellow. I have not seen any of them. I know they exist because I am life and my owner’s mouth is pointing towards me. But this is not my room. This is not my room because I feel life. I can only feel life in a car and this is a car and even though my owner is here, he is not sleeping, so this is not my room. My room exists, because my owner is there right now because my owner is not here. Phoebe does not exist because Phoebe is not life and Phoebe is not in my room and I am a bad dog in Phoebe’s room. I am a good dog in my room though and my room used to be Phoebe’s room and my room. But then Phoebe no longer existed at nighttime and I can’t go in her room. I was a bad dog. Phoebe is pink but she was tasting black. But he was pink too, but black was shooting out of his mouth and she was tasting him and he was turning her black and I was a bad dog. I tasted black. Out of him came black, I know he was black. He was not bleeding because blood is red and he was black. Blackness was all over Phoebe’s room and it was all over my bed, but then that bed did not exist. And she doesn’t exist at night. But she is not black. Black never entered her again. She had to lose existence to protect her from the black. He was not bleeding. Blood is red. He was black.
I am not me. I am surrounded by grass. Grass is green. My room is grey. This grass is grey, but this is not my room. My room doesn’t exist, but my owner exists and my owner is not here, so she must be in my room. My room must exist. My room looks like nothing. It is grey. I know my room is grey, but that is all I know. My room DOES exist because it IS grey. My paws hurt. I am not me though, so I am a good boy. I am in grass, and I know this grass, and so I am not a bad boy. Balls fall from the sky in this grass. And endless supply of balls. But they are not tasteless balls, and I am still hungry. These balls are grey and they are hairy, but they are not alive, because they are not black and they are not red when I own them. My owner loves these balls. I give them to him because I am a good boy. There is only one ball at a time. If there were more balls at a time I would be an even better boy because I would bring them to my owner. When I bring the hairy balls to my owner, I can see his teeth and I can see all of his eyes. When we have the same eyes, I can see colors, because he can see colors. But the grass might be red, and the sky might be green.
A ball falls from the sky and I own this ball. And I want my owner to own this ball. I cannot see his eyes and his mouth is pointing towards me. I should see his teeth. I do not see his teeth. I can always see his teeth. I owned the ball, but now he owns the ball. I want to see his teeth. I want to own that ball. Another ball falls from the sky. I own this ball. I cannot see my owner’s teeth and I cannot see color so I own this ball. Own. Own. Own. My owner takes it from me. I owned it and now my owner owns it. ROUP! ROUP! I brought him so many balls. I want a ball. I owned a ball and now he owns a ball. There are no more balls coming from the sky. Balls do not fall from the sky in my room and I own no balls in my room and my room is grey and I am in my room. My owner is here and he owns a ball, and I own no balls, and he owns all the balls a owned for him in my room, so I am in my room. If I am in my room, soon I will exist, but my owner will not and my room will not. If I exist in color, I will be able to own all the balls.
BOY! BOY! SHORT FAT BOY! SHORT FAT BOY STROKING ME. There are no short fat boys in my room and I am in my room and there is a short fat boy and this hurts. I want him to stop. Rnnnnnnnnnn! And he is stroking me. And this hurts. And my owner owns the ball and his mouth is pointing towards the ground and he is hurting me. RNNNNNNNNN! The short fat boy is there. He is hurting me. He does not belong in my room. RNNNNN! Ouch. This is MY room. RNNNNNNNN! STROKE! RNNNNNNNNNNN! MY ROOM! MY ROOM! MY ROOM! I OWN HIM!
He is crying. He is not bleeding because red is not coming out from where I owned him. Grey is coming out of his arm, but blood is red. Blood is not grey. SO he is not bleeding. So he shouldn’t be crying and I am not a bad boy!
“Bad boy!” My owner says. His eyes are growing from his nose. “You are a very bad boy!” This isn’t my room. My owner took me here and owned my ball and did not show me his teeth and I hurt and short fat boy does not belong in my room and RNNNNNNNNNN!
“Don’t you growl at me, Jax!” He said the food word but I am not hungry but I exist because I hurt and his eyebrows are growing from his nose so there is no food. I WANT TO OWN THAT BALL!
I own my owner.
My owner is not bleeding because grey is coming out of his hand and blood is red and the hairy ball fell out of his hand. I own it now.
I can’t breath. I am moving but my legs aren’t moving so I am not moving. I am not my owner. My owner is my owner. My owner is moving me and my legs are not moving. I do not own my owner. I am a bad dog. But this is not my room. And I am my owner and this man with his eyebrows growing from his nose is not and he should not be moving me and I own him again. Grey is getting all over me. He is not bleeding because blood is red and this is grey. I am in the car. I am in the car but I am not alive. My owner’s eyebrows are growing from his nose. This is my owner. I owned my owner. Never own your owner. I taste my owner and it is salty. He is bleeding. It is not red, but he is bleeding. I am a bad boy. WYAAAAWWW! I am a very, very bad boy. WYAAAAWWW! My owner’s eyebrows are not growing from his nose anymore. But I cannot see all of his eyes and his mouth is pointing towards me. He is not crying but a little wet drops out of his eye. The wet rolls down. Another wet. He wipes the wet away. There is no more wet. I am not life. There is darkness. And then there is color.
I am on grass and grass is green and I can see green but this might be red because I am on grass and grass might be red and blood might be green and my room is upstairs and my owner is in the kitchen and my owner is in my room and Phoebe does not exist and I am being a good boy and I will get a piece of Salami or Bologna and it is not in my room and it is not my owner and it should not be on my grass and its eyes are red although they could be green but they are the color of blood and it walks towards me and it should not be here and it is mocking me and I don’t like it but it won’t go away so I RNNNNNNNNN at it and it does not move so I RNNNNNNN at it louder and it does not move and I want it to move and I do not like it and it is not my home and it should not my on my grass and I own it and red blood comes out and it is bleeding because the blood is red and it owns me and I am bleeding because the blood is red although this might be green although the grass is green and the grass and the blood are two separate colors and it owns me again and I hurt and it owns me and it owns me and I want it to stop owning me and I own it but I do not own it anymore because it doesn’t exist and I am still bleeding because blood is red and this is red and it is all over the place and I want it to stop but it will not stop because what does not exist owned me pretty bad although it should stop because what does not exist does not exist anymore so it never really existed so it never really owned me but I am still bleeding and I can still see red and I am inside and my owner makes a face I have never seen before and I am not a good boy and I am not a bad boy but I am a boy because I do exist and I exist because I am in pain and it hurts and the short fat boy strokes me and that hurts and I own him and I am bleeding everywhere and it hurts and I get up to my room and my owner is not there but I know I exist because I hurt and I am bleeding and I can see the red and my owner is there and I have no water in my bowl and there is red water everywhere. I drink my own blood.
I am in my room. I know this is my room. I exist. My owners do not. I see no point in existence if my owners do not exist. Without owners, I will have no one to live for me.
I am not hungry.
“Jax. Come down here, baby.” I walk down stairs. Pain then pain then pain then pain. I am not scared to walk down the stairs anymore. Nothing downstairs can hurt me. Downstairs is the same as upstairs. My owner is crying and my owner is not crying. My owners are dressed in grey. They put their hands through my hair and it feels good. They are not short fat boys. Phoebe is not here. Phoebe does not exist.
“C’mon. Jax. Let’s go for a ride.” I am not hungry but I follow them to the car room. I am supposed to go into the car. I am in the car. I am not life. Pain is coming through my head. It hurts and I hurt because it hurts. I don’t know who is driving this car. My owners are driving this car. I am my owner. I am my owner, so they must not exist. They never existed.
My paws hurt but my head surges and it surges and it surges. We are in a room that is not my room but it is my room because I am in this room. My room is where I am. There are others. They all hurt but they do not exist because only I hurt. A woman is wearing grey. I can see her teeth, but not her eyes. Her mouth is slightly open. I can see through her teeth. She is black.
“Right this way, Jax!” She says. “You’re going to want to go right down this hall.” She knew the food word. Pain! Pain! Pain! I don’t know if I am hungry, which must mean hunger does not exist. Pain exists. I am in pain. My owners walk with me. My owner is crying and my owner has wet. They are not my owners. I do not cry. My owners do not not cry. I do not do anything my owners do not do. They are not my owners because I am not crying and I am my owner.
This room is grey but it is bright. Bright is pain. I am pain. A grey man walks in and I can see his teeth but he is black. Black is dripping from him. There is black. He is black all over. Black is seeping out of his ears, there is so much of it. This room is now black. My owners are black. I am my owner and I am not black. The black stench fills me up. My owners are black. I am orange. They are not my owners. I am still orange but I can smell black. No more pain. Only stench. My owners are crying. I am not. They are not my owners. The blackness is right next to me. I am light. I am light in a black world.
PAIN! SHARP PAIN! It is gone. No more pain. No more black. No more owners. I exist. My blood feels cool. I am running towards my owner. He disappears. I own my owner. I never owned anything. I was owned. But I was never owned. I owned me. I am not hungry. I ate so many tasteless balls. There is no room left for hunger. I am not in pain. I’ve been owned so many times, my owners feel all my pain; they don’t lend me any. No more stench. No more Phoebe. Phoebe never existed. Only falling food from a table. No more room. Anywhere I existed was my room, but I am nowhere. Nowhere was never my room. I am but only because, now, I am not. And I finally realize:
I do not see colors because colors do not exist.