the parable of the hyper-intelligent dogs

two hyper-intelligent dogs got bored, so one of them got on top of the other and then the one on the bottom stood up on its hind legs. they formed a mega-dog.

the mega-dog put on a trench coat and a top hat. the upper dog shaved its face except the whiskers. they formed a person!

“now that we are people now,” they said to each other, “what should we do? dog things as people or people things as people?”

the answer was obvious.

they went online and got a degree in accounting from the university of notre dame. they opened a bank account. they got a job in accounts receivable at a ski resort. they worked for four weeks until they got paid twice (the second time being a direct deposit).

a third of their money went to the state as tribute. a third of their money went away as rent. two-tenths of their money went as student-loan payments. a tenth of their money went to the church because they were catholic now.

they walked to the grocery store. “we only have four-one-hundredths of our money left!” the dog that formed the lower-body said (it was he who carried the wallet).

“don’t worry i signed us up for a credit card. we can make online payments because it’s all through chase.”

the dog-people bought kombucha tea and ninety grass-fed steaks.


the two dogs grew depressed/fucked. they had conversations like this:

“why do you keep rotating your wrist?”

“you try dicking around with a mouse nine hours a day.”

“excuse me, you try having a dog sit on your shoulders ten hours a day as you walk to work and sit in a chair all day.”

“excuse me, you try staring at a computer screen nine hours a day. i think mine are going to bleed to the death.”

“this is pure satanism.”

“why don’t we just quit? all i want to do is chase car tires. it does not require money to chase car tires.”

“what about all of this debt? there is literally thousands of it.”

“repudiate it.”

“but what would people say? what would we eat? garbage? fucking bunnies? society will say, ‘now here before us, these are savages.’”


the dogs kept going into the office, but less and less of their days were spent doing accounts receivable things and more and more were spent reading interesting articles on the internet. but it was a very stressful way to do nothing. they knew they should be working instead of reading, and would eventually have to work really long days and weekends occasionally and really fast and stress out to still meet deadlines.

they went to dinner parties where everyone just talked about football. it concerned them that all of their physical expression was happening vicariously by watching collegiate and professional sports. they got bellies (the dog-people and the pure-people).

they drank beer after work to relax. they drank beer to fall asleep on time (for getting up for work). the bottom dog got scoliosis but ignored it because the top dog got arthritis and they didn’t have the money to cure both.

one time at a party (on a weekend) someone gave the dogs a white pill and said it was codeine and that it would like make them feel warm and talkative. they didn’t feel those things that they could tell but they also drank a lot of vodka that night, like a lot more than normal.


the bottom dog felt sunshine on the back of his head. it made him feel warm and safe like he was in a prison cell where no one else was allowed into. he realized his shoulders were free to shrug. there were two people standing by his cubicle. one of them had their mouth open and then said “puppy?”


back at their apartment the bottom dog looked around and could not find the top dog. he was not in the bedroom and not in the miscellaneous room with a television and not in the kitchen but he noticed there was a missing wooden-handled knife from the kitchen.

oh jesus what the fuck, the bottom dog thought when he opened the bathroom door. he slapped the body of the top dog a lot of times and dialed nine-one-one even though he couldn’t quite make out the numbers. there was blood everywhere but the bottom dog tried administering cpr anyway.


he did not understand why the body of the top dog was not immediately carried out on an ambulance. the police asked him a lot of questions but he just wanted to tell them to get the top dog to the hospital and get him taken care of.


the bottom dog quit going to work. he ignored the calls from the debt collectors. he ignored all calls. the landlord kicked him out of the apartment. the debt collectors sold all his stuff.

the bottom dog started sleeping in the park. he started eating fucking bunnies.

he bent over to get a drink from a creek when he heard the sound of a motor. i’m going to bite the shit out of that tire, the dog thought, i am going to murder that mother fucking thing. it is going to explode when i bite it.


the dog bit the tire and the car exploded and out of the fire jumped the top-dog back from the dead and into the land of the living.

everything is alright.

everything is going to be alright.

everything will be alright always

Posted in Matt, Really Serious Literature

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>