I was just thinking about a phrase I saw on a social
networking site the other day, and it made me ponder deeper (as usual) into the
real life application of such a concept. The phrase, “I [have, or do not have]
a dog in that fight” sent my mind into some humbling thoughts. Consider with
me, if you will, the dog fight.
A dog, once born
innocent and loving, is being raised and trained daily by a master to fight to
the death. This dog, who could have easily been a happy creature, in a loving
family, cowers under the commands of his master, heavy chains holding him to
his post, both burdening him and strengthening him at the same time. Ears that
have been cut short (in many cases butchered at home instead of done clinically
by a vet) to avoid getting in the way of the dog’s own teeth as he sinks them
into his opponent. This dog knows no other life than that of working, fighting,
and recovering or dying. These dogs are pitted together in a fenced in area,
and prodded toward one another by their masters until the fight begins. The
crowd cheers for the dog they believe should win. Fights break out in the
stands. Money is passed as bets are made. The noise is excruciating. And the
fight begins…
One dog eats at another,
and the other turns to defend itself, attacking in like manner. Blood falls to
the dirt and sand under their feet, feet that are mangled by torture and pain.
Muscles flexing and teeth baring, growling and snapping, the dogs continue as
the crowd’s volume increases with each bite and shred. The crowd calls for more
blood, so the masters of the dogs give the crowd their desire…until the dogs
are either spent or dead on the ground. Money is then passed again as bets were
won or lost in the fight.
Now, come with me to visit the dog’s family.
The little girl said
goodbye to all her lovable puppies before they were even old enough to go away.
She cried. She knew what was going to happen to them. They are litter mates, but
they are being sold to people who are going to raise them to attack each other and
fight to the death. The little girl is heartbroken. She’s not so little that
she doesn’t understand what is going on, and it causes her great pain. She sees
that these little loves of her life will never be lovable, but killers in the
eyes of those who demand blood. She has seen the fights, clouded through tears that
nearly blind her at every event. To close out the grim reality of the dogfight,
the little girl hides under the bleachers and benches, squeezing her eyes
tightly shut, and pressing the heels of her hands firmly against her ears to drown
it out. In her mind she imagines her sweet puppies running in the field with her
on the weekends when she is not in school. They play together, swimming in the
creek or perhaps the pool, and chasing butterflies. Why?! Why do they have dogs
in this fight?! Why are there dog fights at all??The little girl on the outside is all grown up
inside. She understands the painful reality that, despite efforts to eliminate
this suffering from the world, the true fighters will always find a way to
stay. This is her life...
Food for thought
Becca
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