Heavy-Handed Metaphor

This is the second blog I've written on puppy killingRick Moore has a problem. He doesn’t like killing puppies, but everyone else does. He’s always been quite confused about the matter. Puppies are cute and cuddly yet people enjoy slaughtering them.

Rick’s confusion stemmed from his education as a child. In school, he was told that puppy killing was wrong and dangerous to engage in. Despite this, he’d watch his parents do it from time to time. His teachers that told him not to do it were also puppy-killers. Children aren’t allowed to do kill puppies but commercials air during the most watched sporting event that promote puppy killing. Hot women come on screen and slaughter puppies in front of everyone.

His life as a child was fine. Children didn’t have access to puppies to kill so he never had to witness it. Only adults can buy puppies. He had no problems then. His parents would only kill puppies when he wasn’t around. Then in seventh grade, his friend, Max Baroon got his hands on a puppy.

His older brother got it for him. It was a Welsh Corgi. Max told everyone how he and his brother spent all night killing it. Max told the story in excruciating detail to Rick’s group of friends during lunch. He told them how it made the best noises whenever he would kick it.  He told them he could get his hands on another puppy if anyone wanted to come over and end it with him.

Rick has always been an animal lover. He swore to never kill a puppy in his life. Rick believed that all life was precious. Some of his friends said the same thing. Craig and Mutombo made the same swear with Rick.

But after Max killed a puppy, Mutombo had second thoughts. He told these thoughts to Rick in the mall.

Mutombo worked killing puppies into the conversation. He told Rick he wanted to do it. Rick was shocked and disgusted. His own best friend, Mutombo, now wanted to kill puppies like everyone else. Mutombo told Rick that if he should kill a puppy at least once before he says it’s wrong. He called Rick ignorant.

Soon all of Rick’s friend were puppy killers. By the time Rick was in high school. everyone in the school spent their weekends slaughtering puppies. His friend loved talking about how they killed their latest puppy. Craig had a thing for breaking the back legs before snapping its neck. Rick would sit in their car with his friends as they talked about this. It was one of their favorite conversations. If Rick spoke up in defense of puppies, everyone would ignore him. What did he know? He didn’t even kill puppies.

His opinion on puppy killing didn’t matter. Rick gave up. He couldn’t stop his friends from killing puppies. He’d zip his mouth when Max would go on about tossing puppies off cliffs or when Mutombo would argue and say using heels to crush their heads was a better way to kill them.

Rick would learn to tolerate it. He had to. He lived in a puppy-killing world and he had to get used to it.

Rick went away for college. College was the puppy killing central of the world. Every college was located near a pet store with lax security and dogs with large litters. There were regular puppy stomping jaborees every Tuesday and Friday. Rick thought he could handle it. He had a chance to meet new people and get away from his same old life. He wasn’t going to let puppy-killing scare him

Rick wasn’t prepared for what came next. He’d never seen what puppy killing did to people before.

Puppy-killing induces a heightened rage state in human beings followed by a nice relaxing cool down. It’s easier for people to socialize because of the relaxing nature. Puppy killing also had some side effects. People who kill too many puppies at once lose their sanity. They can begin to vomit, ramble on about things no one cares about. Some snap and lose consciousness. They have to be taken to the emergency room.

Rick watched all of this occur on his freshmen floor. Unfortunately for Rick, college was worse than high school. Rick watched puppies killed right before his eyes. Rick once watched a Golden Retriever force fed chocolate.

Rick could walk down the halls of his room and hear the yelps from frightened puppies. The yelps would go quiet. His blood-soaked floor mates would come out and greet him.

One of his close friends would walk into Rick’s room regularly choking a puppy to death slowly with one hand. He’d talk to Rick while the puppy’s heart beat its last beats in his hand.

It wasn’t bad enough that Rick had to witness the puppies dying. His friend would never stop talking about it. How many puppies was it that they killed the night before? What kind of puppy was it? What stupid things had they done the night before during post-puppy-killing induced relaxation? These stories never ceased to amuse them. Just like in high school, any criticism would fall on deaf ears. Rick knew better than to talk. He’d be wasting his breathe.

It wasn’t all bad. Rick met great people. Despite their tendency to bash the heads in of young dogs, Rick’s friends were fun to be around. They enriched his life, but at the same time he felt a deep sorrow. He wished they would change.

But Rick knew trying to control people was wrong. Puppy killing was just how they had fun or calmed their nerves. Who was he to try and stop that? His friends knew how Rick felt about it. They wouldn’t mention it to him when they were going to the local pet store at night to break in and slit some canine throats. They would just go without a peep to Rick.

Rick would watch bad things happen to his friends after their puppy killing induced relaxation would set in. In his freshman year, his friends tried to eat puppies alive and vomited all over the place. One of his friends slipped on puppy blood and hurt his leg. These events touched Rick’s heart. These people that he cared about would get into trouble and make mistakes. He could only sit and watch. He’d see them leave at night to head to a puppy tossing contest or another group mass puppy slaughter. Rick could only hope for the best. He’d hope that they wouldn’t get in trouble. He had no words that could stop him. His position as a non-puppy killer insured that.

Rick tried to make the best out of a bad situation. His friends may have been puppy-murdering lunatics but they were still his friends.

Rick and his friends bought a house together for their last year. His friends became puppy purchasing age at this time. Puppies in cages were stuffed in the fridge. He would open the fridge and see the latest doomed creature. He could see its frightened eyes. The puppy would look right at him. Rick knew what would become of it. He did nothing. Even if he set it free, his friends could get another one.

One of his friends was a taxidermist. He would keep a collection of stuffed dead puppies in his room. Whenever Rick would come to talk to him, he would see the collection of dead puppies grow. Rick like always would keep quiet.

But keeping quiet was hurting Rick on the inside. Rick needed someone to talk to. Rick looked for people to talk to about his problem.   No one could understand or sympathize with a non-puppy murderer. His parents couldn’t. They enjoyed the occasional disembowelment of a baby pitbull. None of his friends could. They were too busy deciding whether to strangle a poodle or microwave a German Shepard for the night’s entertainment.

Rick found an online group of non-puppy killers but that wasn’t good enough. They were hundreds of miles away.

What could Rick do?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements