HOUNDDOG SKINHEADS - Drew Harris (brene brown rising strong .TXT) 📗

We are sitting on the corner of fourth avenue south and Diedrick street, our paws are drenched in the pouring rain, our eyes and our masters’ glued to the evening sky. Fireworks, they call them. I look at my brother, who is equally as frightened as I am. I suppose human beings can’t hear half of what we can. In American history, this day marks the independence from Great Britain. Little do our masters realize that this day is even more significant to us than it will ever be to them.
I used to be somebody. But that was a long time ago. Now, life is not so bad, just different from before. I used to listen to Ultra-Violence on my stereo, and now I watch FOXNews. I used to wear my cherry red Doc Martens to work and school, and now I walk on four paws. Life is no better or worse, just different. Who would have thought it would eventually come to this?
One night I found myself laying on my master’s lap, watching a John Woo flick. The cop fought alongside the bad guy, and strange words were spoken amid the gruesome firefights. One character exclaimed: In many ways, dogs are superior to men. I no longer feel sorry for myself, I can tell you that much. But I wouldn’t go so far as to claim this. At least not yet. I suppose life is easier now that I don’t have to worry about paying rent or getting my head stomped in by police. But then again I was never one to worry much about anything. Maybe that’s why God put me here in America as a dog this time around. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my lives, it’s that life is only as special as you make it.


About eight months ago my master and his girlfriend bailed me and my brother from the Metro Animal Shelter. We were rotting in freezing wire cages alongside flea ridden Poodles and snappy Pitbull mixes. It was a real shithole. Life is fantastic now. I don’t know exactly how it happened, and I don’t exactly care. All I know is that me and my brother are here in America as dogs. We have easy lives this time around. No more slaving in warehouses and factories just to make ends meet. Instead, we sleep on the sofa while the sun shines and our masters are at work and school. The month of May was blissful, and as July opens it’s arms, we allow it to cradle and nourish us with it’s hot summer days and adventurous nights.
Life holds true to one golden rule; you get out of it what you put in. And I believe that the hard work I did as a human is finally paying off, in a rather strange way. You’ve got to watch out for yourself. Nobody is going to do it for you. The trick is to try and find others that you care for while watching your own neck at the same time. Life can be a great adventure. I never appreciated the little things as much as I do now. We are called Beagles. We originated in Great Britain and were originally used to hunt small animals. Maybe that is why our great creator made me a beagle, because we share the same origin. Human life was thoroughly amusing, though I must admit- being a dog is fantastic. I sleep eighteen hours of the day, more if it is raining. Never before did I hold such a strong connection with the rain.
As my brother and I sit on the city sidewalk, the rain water floods over the curbs and gushes into the busy streets. The distant crackling of the Independence Day celebration brings tears to our master’s eyes as he hugs his girlfriend, who prior to today he had been separated from for a year. My brother looks over at me and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he is finally content with where destiny had placed him. In this moment, everything is perfect. The warm summer rain reminds us with every drop that we were alive, more alive than we have ever been.

Publication Date: 07-02-2010

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