Currently reading : Interview with a dog

Interview with a dog

8 December 2010

Author : jeanne-salome-rochat

In the picture below, Bella (left), Aaron Schuster (middle) and David Levine (right).

A: Why on earth did you eat that ten dollar bill? It can’t have tasted nice.

B: Don’t be gruff. Anything that falls on the floor is mine. Can I have a cookie now to change my mouth lining flavor? Can I? Can I?

A: What does it mean to be runt of the litter?

B: Stomped on lowest rung. Everyday fear-bath, nonstop bow-down. Wreathed in terror-reek that broadcasts you are last of the last. I don’t like to talk about this stuff…

A: OK. I just gave you a bath. Then you went and rolled in manure.

B: Will you barbeque soon? Will you let me lick the grill when it cools?

A: No, really. How come I get you all nice and clean and you immediately roll in something stinky?

B: Humans don’t get true grooming, which only takes place using the tongue. Toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant are what’s “stinky.” Soap’s revolting. Terrible invention. Why have it in your lamplit, carpeted, doorlocked lair? Dung is informative, complex””full of news flashes from the body’s interior. Shit’s an encyclopedia, volumes of urgent correspondence your organs wrote if only you knew how to read. What’s learnt from smelling shampoo? It just causes sneezing, erases articulate fumes. Bulldozes olfactory signposts. Washing is book burning.

A: How come you chew window blinds during thunderstorms?

B: Must break hard things with teeth””bite/ crunch/ tear when scared. Need escape hatch fast. Eat my way out.

A: Well, that makes a certain sort of sense. But why did you roll in the carcass of that dead seal when we took you to the beach at Morro Bay?

B: To transfer ghost-cloak of invisibility, silly. Death-smell lends protection. Winner of ripest warm day decay contest is not challenged by pack peers””billowing putrefaction blasts inspire respect and great kill-pride! Meat rot bouquet is prey-smell’s best medal. What don’t you understand in that?

A: Hmmm. And what motivated you to eat that postcard from Alex and chew up several of my Catholic saint statuettes?

B: Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. THERE’S THE CAT! GET HIM! (races out of room.)

Text by Amy Gerstler
Image by Vivian Rehberg



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