I am “walked”. I do not have autonomy. The halter is placed around my neck, and I am “walked”. I do not have a say in the matter. I have as much say in the matter as the halter, which, I understand, was placed around the necks of miscreants, those who transgressed, and who were then pulled up before finally falling down never to rise again.
And when it comes right down to it, should we also be used in figures of speech, metaphors, allusions, proverbial ___ bite, ___ bark, sleeping ___, “let slip the____ . . .” All right. I’ll let that go — it was, after all, the top dog of literature who coined it.
It started with the dawn of — what? Human understanding in. . . oh, can we put a number to it? When were we kidnapped from our wolfish beginnings and then forcibly adapted to be canine chums?
There has been, however, a new development of which you should all be aware. I refer, of course, to The call of the wild, which we now hear once more, as in the recent case of Chernobyl. The Worker Town has become a sarcophagus. We are now strays. You can adopt us, if you like. We were left behind when you left us, or, as you call it, abandoned the site for safety reasons. You can no longer spey, neuter or vaccinate us. We are rabid. We are also radioactive.
"I am “walked”. I do not have autonomy. The halter is placed around my neck, and I am “walked”. I do not have a say in the matter."
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