... over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” (Genesis 1:26).
I am house-sitting. Perhaps that is too luxurious a title for what I am actually doing: I am dog-sitting. But Fuji is no ordinary dog. No, no, no. Fuji is the modern day equivalent to the cats of ancient Egypt, which were worshipped as gods and served by the humans who exalted the felines above themselves. Indeed, it has felt much less like "dog-sitting" and much more like idol worshipping these last three nights.
Perhaps you, reader, need some background on how I came to occupy my role in this travesty of idolatrous dog-sitting. Naomi Sakamoto, a long time friend of our family, is getting married in Hawaii, but leaving Fuji in a kennel would be anathema to Naomi's parents. In fact, it is rumored that Mrs. Sakamoto would not attend her only daughter's wedding if a sitter could not be found to attend to Fuji. This tidbit succinctly provides a depiction of the role Fuji plays in the lives of her owners.
Thus my family asked me to watch Fuji, so that both parents of the bride could participate in the wedding. Ostensibly, my official duties are fairly simple: feed Fuji twice a day (half a scoop each of two kinds of food), make sure she has water, and don't let her disturb the neighbors with barking. Fuji, however, has seen to it that in reality, things have not been so easy.
I had to meet Fuji twice before dog-sitting; both times I had to enter with Naomi, to give the appearance that I was a "friend". Fuji barked at me nonetheless, and so I was instructed to offer treats--a practice that has since become ritual upon my entering the house. These ceremonial offerings of jerky win Fuji's tolerance of my presence; they earn me her favor, ensure that she won't bring calamity or natural disaster upon the land, and will hopefully secure her blessing of a good harvest this autumn.
Despite my faithful execution of the sacraments, apparently I was remiss in my duties as substitute chief priest. Last night, at 2:07 a.m., Fuji began barking. The phone rang. Angry neighbors complained. Immediately I offered double portions of the jerky sacrifice, but to no avail. I prayed for quiet, but Fuji was not to be appeased. The phone rang again--more angry neighbors. Finally, after nearly an hour of sincere entreaty and several pieces of jerky later, I had sufficiently atoned for my transgression (the nature of which I am still unsure), and Fuji went back to sleep.
Clearly I do not have my God-endowed dominion over this animal. I feel that this is an unhealthy, unbiblical relationship. This dog was created to obey me, and I to have dominion over it. Something of the created order has been perverted.
3 comments:
there are many things of divine creative order and design that have been reversed and perverted. this is just the icing on the cake...
VERY FUNNY. i love CATS. all hail to the feline fantastry!!
It seems that this post is too long, and people are too exhausted from reading to make comments, =). So, two days after reading it, I'm rested up to post on it.
Obviously, Fuji is a high-maintenance dog, with her healthy, brushed hair, full house access with a her own doggie door, double-cushion mattress at the bottom of the staircase and at the center of the house, and a variety of treats that would make a homeless person feel like royalty.
She was not afraid of muscular JT, no no no. Fuji took this weekend and made the most of it. She probably ate more doggie treats than she's ever had with her normal family. And beef jerky, none-the-less. I thought that bag was for human consumption!
Your last paragraph actually made me laugh out loud. For most of your readers this means nothing.
Also, according to my neighbor, dogs really like to drink beer. So if Fuji erupts again you might consider grabbing a six-pack.
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