Writing 101, Day Nine: Changing Moccasins – Point of View


My human throws my toy and I give chase. I always bring it back grinning. She exclaims that I am good. Maybe I’ll get a reward. Most times she just throws it again. I don’t care, I love chasing the little disc. I really love when she throws it too far. It’s even better when a friend grabs it. When that happens, I get to meet others from my neighborhood. I know all their smells because of the daily jogs around the block. But I don’t often get to see their faces or smell them live. Oh wait! I can smell the Meat-man. He is early today! I love to snatch one of the yummy meats that he drops when rolling along the path. He is my friend too! His voice is always wonderful, smelling like my favorite foods, all the time. Sometimes I get so excited I have to mark his shoes and meatstand so that others know he is my friend, not theirs. Yum! The meat is delicious as my human comes over to stop me from eating it. She never makes it before I gobble it up. It’s one of my favorite games. Oh man! Look at that bird, it almost touched me. I am so going to get it. “Sorry my human, I have to catch this bird,” I bark. “You should play with us!”

Why does she keep throwing that disc away from the enemy, only to demand that it brings it back? I have watched the enemy from my post over many days and finally realize that their masters, the Consumers, are training them. How strange that the Consumers train their furry weapons of destruction to be fast and retrieve small objects only to demand that they drop the catch in disgust. I lost my cousin that way. The enemy was too fast and my cousin became a undesired sacrificial gift to the enemy’s master. I hate the Consumers! They often invade my kin’s woodland homes, and then turn them into these vast open areas for training. All kinds of training. The Consumers train our natural enemy to be swift, cunning, and reactive. These furry weapons have gotten so much better lately, able to turn, dodge, and jump with a moment’s notice. The Consumers also train their own youth to chase their own kind, in order to inflict some sort of disrespectful infection which causes the inflicted to then hunt down others. These creatures have even created large beasts that must travel upon black rivers of stone, in order to slay my kind with apathetic haste. Some of the elders still tell tales of how there was a time when the enemy and the Consumers were at odds. I wish it were that way still; it would balance out the struggle. I mean, look at this Consumer and how she attempts to stop the enemy from devouring stinky logs of meat, only to fail. She does it everyday with the same result. Either it is another training regiment or she is unintelligent. Seriously, how have we allowed the Consumer to flourish so viciously, and without restraint? As I lose myself in wonder, my tail fluffs in warning. Dang! The Pilot is causing a ruccus with the enemy. I hate flyers!

Today is perfect for freedom. Weaving around the white puffs of phantom water, relieving myself on the tops of Domestics, and diving at unsuspecting Landlockes. I could want for nothing more. Since I was a hatchling I have never envied any of the other creatures that share the blue world. I have no restrictions or limitations. I am quick and agile, able to evade any predator. I am all about fun! And excitement is always available at these open fields the Domestics call ‘parks’ which they use for entertainment and distraction for their imprisoned Landlockes. I glide over the green foliage, listen to the strange high-pitched sounds the young Domestics make as they play, and wonder if any beetles are foolish enough to not be hiding. My tummy grumbles and I forget when the last time I indulged on scrammbling tasties. As I begin the search for a fast-meal I notice a red disc being launched across the grassy fields. A Landlocke and their Domestic are passing the time with a game of retrieval. Those games are my favorite, I absolutely love running interference. These particular Landlockes that are forced to retrieve objects the Domestics toss away, are goobs. They chase and return. Me, I like to distract and have them chase me. The crazy goobs actually chase and jump believing that they could get ahold of me, but I always go skyward laughing. I circle multiple times waiting for the opportune time to join in. I am not big on patience and swoop by three times but the Landlocke never notices. But then the goob gets distracted by the sweaty and chubby Domestic that provides some of the worse tasting grubs. This is my chance! I allow the goob to swallow the gross meal before I dive, nearly knicking their flopping ear as I swoosh pass. Game on!

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