The way he yells at me, the particular anger with which he is able to conjure up is quite fascinating. As I sit in my shell of an existence and observe this peculiar little boy it saddens me how much his manhood weighs him down. Why does he think he must make me afraid of him to listen, why must he roar command after command. Does he hate me, no, I think he hates himself. I think if he could scream at himself he would, and he would tell himself all kinds of disparaging things. But instead, he shouts at me to get off of this thing, or get off of that, go in my cage, or go out back. I just want to go for a walk, and run and be free. But all of this yelling, and hitting and yanking on my collar just makes me mostly scared. I haven’t decided yet wether or not I will chew a whole through his neck but we’ll see. Not gonna keep my happiness tucked away to much longer, God gave me a tail and I’m gonna let it swing mark my bark.