Sinning Dogs in the Hands of an Angry Dog Owner

A parody of Edwards' Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. The Owner is God, and the dogs are the sinners. The person reciting it is a dog who is despised with the other dogs behavior.

Sinning Dogs In The Hands Of An Angry Dog Owner

I write this sermon as a dog, who witnessed first hand the loss of many of man’s so called “best friends.” They were literally burnt to ashes and whisked away into the watery waves of the local reservoir. Do I pity them? No. They are the bringer of their own death, they killed themselves. Now, some did grow old or were sick. These few dogs died rightfully. They were obedient, quiet, and they never once ran off into the street. For the most part they sat on the vents of the house letting the air conditioning blow through their flabby, thick skin. Alas, I write to you fellow dogs, those that act with arrogance around the house. The syringe is waiting. The thumb is pressed against the plunger. 

You foul mutts! Why do you come here? You know right well why you are sitting here flailing your wet tongues. For that exact reason you are here. You wag your tongue like no one cares. You pour slobber on the furniture and your owner’s face. Your tail writhes from left to right; you think your man is happy? Well, I tell you that is wrong. That scrunched face you see is a face of disgust. He hates it, despises it! He despises you for it! Now you can only wait. You unknowingly wait for the metal to strike your flesh. You simply sit and wag, and wag, and wag. You pant wildly like you ran 789 miles, but you only ran around the house once. Dogs brains are to small to understand their own thinking, let alone their master’s, and oh they are the master. The master waiting to rid you of your life! Your lives are like your tongues, hanging by few tiny tissues. 

You putrid, impure, pooches! Your life has come towards its end, but there is still a small ray of hope. Your man has given you yet another day. He seems to get some entertainment out of watching you waddle and slobber. This should be glorious to you! Tomorrow you could be lying on the ice cold, metal operating table. So please, contemplate your life and figure out if you can change. Your owner will hopefully have enough hope in you. I do not have any hope for that matter. I only see the gray pasty liquid of which will be injected into you sooner rather than later. “Why?” You ask again. “Why will I be killed in such a way?” I say to you, go watch yourself uncocniosously in a mirror and you will know. Watch yourself run in circles and chase your tail. You will see stupidity and you will know just one of the multitude of reasons why your owner despises you. He always looks down upon you, smirking at your blindness. You are blind to all things. You see no color. This too proves your inferiority. Your only friend is yourself. You are the only one not waiting with the needle. Your owner hates you. He fumes at the very sound of your barking voice. Your life is of no importance to him.  Wish, I tell you, for the evil spirit to flee your possessed soul.

Dogs, you should pray that your master end your life now! Your puppies will grow to be the sickening beasts you are today! Your master has many syringes. He is ready to burn your puppies too. Do you not wish a better life for your offspring? Clearly, you do not. You still sit here with blank stares. Arrogance surrounds you. Because you feel proud, you become oblivious to what surrounds you. Life is a tail, four legs, and a few chew toys. Your lives are nothing! There is but one reason why you are spoiled. The master wants to see your arrogance. This only gives him more reason to butcher your soul from your body. Be ready to squirm as your body parts from your inner being, and the oversoul. 

The master abhors your presence. He hopes you will die soon, or he will take matters into his own hands. You are the poop that you excrete from your own body. The owner picks it up and dumps it into the trash. That is all you are, an it. You have no denomination, no orientation to place yourself in. You simply lick your urine ridden phallus in hopes that you will be clean. Even more disgusting, you come up to lick your master’s face and hands after you lick the urine ridden phallus. Does he approve of it? Absolutely not. He should make water upon you. That is how low you, with your four legs are. You are urine and dung. That is all that you will ever be unless you give the master the one chance to grant acceptance; the acceptance that you had at birth. As of now you simple pieces of cow pie, you are just another life ready to be cast off into the ocean. The current is ready to sweep you away. This is but the best of what will happen.  Do not expect this fate. Be prepared to have your charred ashes flushed away down the toilet drain, where you will be met with human feces. Do not overlook your fate, think not that you are able to survive. It is this very arrogance that takes your life. 

Now, the veterinarian stands with his thumb pressed against the plunger. The syringe is waiting. His white mask and white robe blind you. You believe you are in Heaven. All of a sudden you are hoisted from the floor, you writhe, whimper, and whine. The pleas do not stir the owner’s conscience at all. All you can do now is wait. It would be best for you to be still. Master feels no remorse. He smiles in relief as you are sedated on the frosty operating table. Your mind screams in terror. Your body lies limp. The doctor comes closer with the syringe. Your failing eyes widen for the last time. The metal needle pierces your jugular. You feel the cool liquid enter your body. For a moment, a feeling of bliss and calmness comes upon you. Suddenly then your heart begins to skip beats. Your pass in and out of consciousness. The limp sack lying on the table twists and shakes. You can do nothing. Then, all goes black. You are gone. 

Think brothers! You do not wish this dreadful fate upon you. The only way to escape it is to recognize it. Then, you must return to your owner and prove to him that you have be transfigured into something completely knew. No longer will you be an it. You will be loved.