Dogs bark because it is their religion.
Let them bark.
Every creature deserves a faith,
and some are unfortunate enough
to find theirs in noise.
Let them bark at strangers,
at shadows,
at passing storms.
The day you take religion away
from the myopic and the illusioned,
they will have to confront
what they have been barking at.
So let them bark.
Until they realise
barks are all they have left.
No teeth.
No claws.
And bones too fragile
to carry the weight
of their borrowed convictions.
But should they wander
into your corridors
mistaking indifference for hospitality,
don’t let them confuse patience with permission.
They will bark.
That is what dogs do.
Offer them a chewed-on bone tomorrow,
and they will trade loyalties
before you have finished blinking.
You see,
faith is only valuable
as long as it is affordable.
Which is why
dogs do not worship god;
they barter him for bones.
