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ShareWare OnLine 2
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ShareWare OnLine Volume 2 (CMS Software)(1993).iso
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1993-03-23
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54 lines
GOOD DOG
by Jean Blevins
At one time I was a dog. Not an entire dog, of course. But a number of
cells from the brain of what was called a dog, in the days when dogs lived.
I know what a dog is. The humans - from whom all kindness flows, to
whom all loving goes - they displayed for me the pictures in my screens.
I can see them still, when I choose. My favorite is the slender dog
with great fur, leaping as it did so boldly where the fire ate the wooden
walls. Surely it would cease, end, halt, deactivate, there, I thought when I
first saw this. But then the mighty dog leaped from the burning place,
carrying with it a small human, so perfect even though immature.
The humans - all kindness, all love - left me these and many other
scenes of my kind in dear closeness to them. Sunlight was there, and winds,
and mountains, and often both small humans and full sized ones. Always my
kind was strong and saving of the humans and their places. I should fail to
honor my ancient kind if I did not guard the humans and their places, like
this one.
So of course you must all wait here. Your wait will not be long. On my
screens I see your movings becoming faster and harder but I cannot hear you.
Your voices are too tiny for my ears. I hear humans only, and when they
speak I will heed, whatever time that will be. You small shaggy ones
should not have come here to the place where the humans create the power for
their tools. It is not your home and you must stop being here. You soon
will. The cleaners will take you away soon.
You thought to come here while I slept, did you? But my dog cells
never sleep and my sensors and wires and receptors never sleep and I will
guard this house of power for the humans forever. Why do you even come here?
It disturbs me to see something that so much resembles humans, and yet so
small and unclean. Some of you are not even whole, I see. The city played
with you, didn't she? She does that with your kind. At one time, the city
was a cat.The ones who come here are often missing parts - an arm, a leg.
But it is her way. All she knows is being beautiful and playing, as she
does.
But when her playthings get this far, then I must lock my doors behind
you, as I have done. Don't run and make sounds and wave your little sticks
against my walls. Just lie down and rest. The cleaner robots will be here
soon. You will need to be red and wet but just for a short time.
Then when you are all cleaned away and my floors are shiny again, it
will happen as it always does - through all my circuits will flow the joy of
the humans' voices - from whom all kindness and to whom all love - and I
will again hear them say, "Gooddog Gooddog Gooddog Gooddog Gooddog Gooddog
GooddogGooddogGooddogGooddogGooddogGooddogGooddogGooddog..."
=X=X=X=