The
handsome, brown-coated Royal Bahamian dog strutted down the
road. His eyes scanned to his left then to his right.
What was he looking for? He was looking to see if any of
the humans left on the side of the road any sumptuous
meals. The humans normally would graciously pile their
leftover delicacies on top of fifty-five-gallon bins each
evening making it such a welcome delight for the friendly
canines.
Royal Bahamian dogs are generous among
themselves. They would gladly share their findings with
their colleagues and friends. Sometimes they would store
away their cherished findings for festival eating days when
they would sit and eat with friends and relatives. On this
particular night, this Bahamian dog, let’s call him George,
noticed that a human left a large bag on top of the bin in
front of their colorful residence.
George, standing about thirty feet
away, scanned the outside of the bag with his dark,
determined eyes. He thought to himself, “It looks like a
delicious meal is in that bag. I can see through that
plastic bag the humans use, that there is an assortment of
tasty meats I am sure is paw-licking good. They make it so
easy for us to have such wonderful meals. We canines are
indebted to all Bahamian humans who so thoughtfully leave
sumptuous meals for us. They are not aware that they are
actually supporting the growth and development of
intelligent Bahamian dogs for generations to come.”
There was one problem. Although George was a respected and
honorable leading canine in the community, he was too short
to reach the bag of food. He decided to call his taller
friends to come and help him get the bag for him. He was
certain that the humans left sufficient to share. It was
already after midnight. The neighborhood was silent. But
George could not resist the opportunity. “Hey guys,” he
barked loudly, “look at what was given to us tonight. Come
let us have a feast.” You would not believe it. From
around the corner and across the street, eight other dogs
came scurrying happily to the scene. One said, “This is
what I like about you George, you are always thinking of
us.” George barked to the tallest, black-coated,
cross-bred friend, “Harry, would you kindly get that bag on
top of the bin for us.” He responded, “Whatever you want,
George.”
Harry stood on his rugged, strong hind legs and stretch his
neck to reach the bag. It was really high on the bin. The
humans had over stuffed the bin with all sorts of bags and
goodies. Strong Harry tugged and tugged on the large bag,
but it would not budge. He called for help. Two other
friends, Susan and Sam came to assist. Together they pulled
and pulled on the bag until not only the bag fell off, but
the entire bin tumbled over. This was a welcomed
opportunity. George and his friends discovered that the
generous humans not only left one bag but many bags. As
good Bahamian dogs normally do, they each grabbed a bag and
used their sharp teeth to open them. The eight dogs had
enough food for themselves. They spread the delicious meal
in front of the bin and some in the road. It made it easier
to inspect what was there.
You should have seen them so happily eating away. George
raised his voice. “Guys, I am sure you all agree that we
are grateful to the humans who made it so easy for us to
spread this meal in the road tonight.” They all barked in
agreement. Susan could not resist the opportunity to share
what she overheard the night before. She said: “Listen
guys, my human masters were watching the television news
last night. I overheard the news reader through the window
saying that the Government of The Bahamas may implement new
laws to prevent dogs from having this wonderful
opportunity. This will not be good for us. We cannot let
this happen.” They all barked in agreement.
Susan continued, “If the Government prevents Bahamian humans
from being kind to us by leaving food outside in the bins,
we will die of starvation. “This is true,” shouted
Rebecca. “I live in a far-too-clean neighborhood just a
mile away. Already many of the dogs are disappearing. We
cannot have canine night parties anymore. They would not
let us have our midnight street picnics and some of us are
talking about having a rebellion. We plan to have a loud
bark-out one late night for about three hours. We know that
will upset all the humans. You guys in this neighborhood
are so richly blessed. I am thinking about moving here.”
William, the biggest in the group, stood to his feet. His
deep voice pounded their ears. “I overheard my human
masters saying that they will have to send me to cleanliness
school. They want me to learn how to avoid eating out of
trash bags. They want me to stop doing what I naturally do
as a noble canine. That is spreading tables of sumptuous
food all over the floor and the front yard. Fellow canines,
we cannot let this happen. We must not let these humans
destroy our culture. Cleanliness is not for us. Nastiness
and dirtiness are what we live for. We must
keep our
streets nasty.”
Then Sally, a respect leader, shouted from the back of the
pack. “Do you know what happens after we would have
finished our nasty meal parties? About an hour after we
leave the road spread with crumbs from our meals, our
respectable rodent friends, the humans call them rats, come
out by the dozens to eat what we have left. They are a
growing healthy rat community we must support. We must not
let the ecosystem between rat and dog disappear. We must
keep our neighborhood alive and nasty. What do you say
fellow canines?” They all loudly barked in agreement.
Then George stood up on all four and asked two solemn
questions. “How many of you will support me in keeping our
neighborhoods nasty with open bins of trash and food bags
spread all over the road? How many of you will protest
against the Bahamian Government if they try to make our
community clean? They all shouted, “We will.”
Barrington H. Brennen, MA, NCP, BCCP, a marriage and family
therapist and board certified clinical psychotherapist, USA.
Send your questions or comments to barringtonbrennen@gmail.com
or write to P.O. Box CB-13019, Nassau, The Bahamas, or
visit www.soencouragement.org
or call 242-327-1980
