Sin's Playhouse

You'll be given commands in a language you don't understand. Through my motions, how I push your butt to the ground, how I gesture and correct, you'll start to learn each. Sit and heel will come quickly enough. They're the first I work on with new animals. Sit. Watch me. You're a smart thing so I expect you to pick this up quickly. Over time you'll naturally begin to focus solely on me, on my hands, even as you idle and rest you'll be alert to my smallest demand.

How long will it take you to realize I've given you a new name? Some dogs never quite put it together. You'll learn to listen to for that foreign twist of my tongue and internalize it. That sound, that's you now. More importantly, that's how I call for you.

The more complicated commands will take weeks to perfect. Days to even learn what I want when I bark that new word at you. Like a dog you'll sit and puzzle over the meaning, playing over the word and the movements I give until it finally clicks.

You'll be so proud when you figure it out that shame wont touch you. You used to be a person after all. Don't you remember how hard you would think about little things like how to manage your life? Now all that drive is refocused on the singular goal of pleasing me.

You exist on my schedule. You'll wake with me, sleep with me. You'll be given access to your water from a bowl on the ground and brought outside to sniff and empty your bladder. You'll find endless joys in the toys I give you and the treats I let you earn.

When I correct you it will be immediate, pointed, and quickly forgiven. Nips to your scruff, the invasion of your personal space, even forcing you to feel small as I pull your face into mine and growl the word you've learned means "No." If you show even a hint of food aggression you'll be eating each piece of your kibble from the small of my hand until I'm satisfied you know nothing belongs to you.

You'll exist without contemplation of yourself. You'll exist for the joys of my praise, my fingernails scratching through your coat, the small treats I feed you.

My sweet puppy, look how far you've come.

You're not a person anymore.

You're an expensive pet.

Maybe you were a person once. Maybe even one that was filled with complicated thoughts and big dreams. Now you're a dog.

Just a dog.

Not even of any particular pedigree.

You're an animal that will be spoken over and shushed when it tries to speak. Do you think I care what a dog might have to add to a conversation? Do you think I will allow something I own to bark for attention? Instead I'll let you have your little growls when we wrestle with your toys. You'll learn the importance of play sneezes. You'll neutralize stressful situations with a shake down your spine. Day by day your complicated thoughts will dissolve into the simple feelings an animal is allowed.

You'll get your medicine each morning placed on the back of your tongue before I hold your mouth shut. You'll never know what you're taking, and I wont even think to tell you. When you get sick I'll take you to a stranger who will place you on a cold table for examination. You'll understand nothing but my warm hand soothing down your spine, telling you it's alright.

You're a dog that exists to be taken care of. You're a dog that learns tricks just to entertain me.

How long will that treatment take to produce results? Do you think you'll remember the last words you speak or the last time you stood on two feet? How long before you go quiet, focused only on the sound of my voice or the slow contemplation of the world immediately around you? How long will it take for your mind to slow down?

How long before you search out the sunspots in the house to doze quietly for the afternoon?

Not with cruelty, but with tender care and casual disregard I'll cut away the parts of you that let you believe you were a person. How long before a closed door will bar your movement? How long before you forget the proper way to brush out your coat or teeth?

No more goals.

No more deadlines.

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