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THE LOST DOGS
4. Finale
B. Puppies As Fertilizer
at three years old, incinerated dogs, make good profits as fertilizer, get a whiff of it from the medium strip, the fate of melbourne's pets that fall from favour, dumped in the country & on city streets, suffering from starvation, a lack of shelter, disease, mistreatment, or dropped off at animal welfare compounds to be killed or purchased, the lost dogs' home sends the murdered, to be minced as fertilizer, perhaps the only puppy left in the stray pen, his bursts of energy, his razor sharp teeth, his sunlight simplicity, there is a high turn over of them, what of his health? his quality? who's to judge? why it's the lost dogs' home, & the director playing the role of god, of course there is no choice, he must 'put them down', the question is always, would he kill his own? & to what extent, we do the same, to the elderly, the disabled, children & the mentally ill? the slow death of the lost, hidden within the same system, that allows itself to lose thousands of dogs, that have no voice, no name, no history, each a reminder of our irresponsibility, sad sob dogs with a million sad stories, the woe-is-me dogs, the heart strings & guilt trip & bloodshot eyed dogs, & the deliberate disposal of surplus pups, of the dog that has given in to human culture, that has paid the price for domestication, for its part, in the therapeutic effects of pet keeping, the slowing of a heart rate, or the breaking of a spirit, followed by leash laws, bad publicity & odd little inspectors that hide behind trees, with notepads in ankle freezing trousers |
