As the dog’s lungs filled with water, it’s last dying thought or scent was peanut butter.
Two minutes earlier, the dog was startled by its reflection in a pond. This was all a very new experience. Many dogs owned by wealthy Caucasians rarely roam beyond the confined backyard, and are thusly sheltered from “life”. This sort of privilege comes at a wicked price in the form of ignorance, temptation, pride and impatience. This is what urged the dog to leap into the pond with the sole intent of forcing intercourse on the unsuspecting reflection.
Three minutes earlier, the dog was awoken by the slam of the gate door. Its master had left in a blind rage. Instead of closing shut, the wooden door was left open. Just enough for the dog to learn what freedom truly meant.
Two hours earlier, the dog was slapped across the nose with a rolled up newspaper. The mischievous dog had discovered the taste of raw garbage for the umpteenth time and expressed love by spreading trash all over the kitchen floor. It was surprised that the master did not feel the same joy. In enraged silence, the master opened the back door and pointed outdoors, to which the dog slowly walked out, head hung low in shame. It watched his master through the window. He was cleaning up, cussing loudly the whole time. The dog rapidly grew bored and fell asleep.
MORAL: Tragedy breeds tragedy.