August 06, 2005


Of Clones and Claws and Labrador Moms

When I first heard the humans had cloned a dog the other day, I didn't know what it meant. I know cone, like in ice cream. It's a nice word. But I also know claw, as in cats. It's a bad word. Putting the "cl" of claw with the "one" of cone seems strange and scary and as peoply as power tools. It just smells suspicious.

Then I found out "cloning" meant they somehow made an Afghan hound mate with itself by using needles or other hard, shiny tools. Next they squeezed the tiny same-self inside a Yellow Labrador mother dog. That's wrong in so many ways. It makes me want to lower my ears and hide behind furniture.

I lick my sad, empty sack, thinking about how people don't want too many dogs in the world. Then I think about needle-wielding, white-coat-wearing scary people forcing Labradors to bear puppies that look nothing like them, to make only the exact dogs they want and want and want. Humans always want. It's what they do most. If they come at me with their needles, my fur will rise. Or maybe I'll lick their hands, hoping they won't hurt me or other Labradors or other dogs with their death-like love.

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