Barking at all, barking all day –just barking– the chained dog is tethered to his post, his constant companion. Here he barks, here he sits and watches, here he sleeps: he and the chain are one.
He is fed, he shits, he rolls, he dozes in a reverie, shivers in the snow and basks in the summer's sun, but the tether forever holds him. He knows nothing of freedom, nor cares for it. His post is freedom; from work, thought, challenge, change.
Along comes the man – shows his teeth, challenges the weak, dominates the interaction, hears little and says much. He speaks of things he doesn't understand, ignores things he doesn't care for, hates things he cannot have. From the time he lifts his head from his pillow to the time it crashes down, the man perpetually betrays his limitations, the colour of his heart, the untrustworthiness of his hands. He revels in it all. He and his world are one.
Chains stop the dog, chains stop the man: they cannot be undone, they cannot be loosened.
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