oh the humanity
Mar 8th, 2010 by tortoise
She kept seeing these hungry dogs. The dogs were long past the point of hope, long past the days where they thought that going up to a human, sitting down a few feet from them, looking at them intently and in an expectant manner while enthusiastically but excitedly wagging their tail would get them want they wanted. They no longer looked at humans with big round eyes to drown in, no longer whinnied, or moaned or whimpered.
She hated seeing that. For the dogs to be hungry was one thing, but to not even ask for help, oh, the dog-eat-dog-ness of it all. She got in the habit of carrying around extra $20 dollar bills which she’d give to the dogs when she saw them. Sometimes they’d have collars she could tuck the money in; sometimes she’d have to sort of feed it to them.
She preferred when they had collars because sometimes the dogs wouldn’t hold onto the money when she “fed” it to them. She’d proffer the bill and they’d sniff it, maybe occasionally bite on it at her insistence, but usually wound up letting it drop to the ground, looking at it, and then wandering off. She couldn’t understand that. How could they refuse a 20 dollar bill? Didn’t they know what they could buy with that?