The Voice of My Dog

I am the voice of my dog, all except the barking, growling, and yipping in my sleep. Which I don't think I do. But I speak for her in other ways -- not power of attorney ways, but in reality I would have that power -- in ways expressive of her apparent (obvious) feelings, and also expressive of the larger truth that living beings no doubt have. (It's like birds flying in flocks without thought; something's speaking in them.)

The dog, being domesticated, doesn't say much on her own. So I do the speaking, speaking to her, then speaking for her.

"Everyone's laughing at you behind your back."

Then her response. "I'm not concerned about that. The problem is with them, or, if it's not true, with you for saying such a thing. I won't lose any sleep or my happiness, because I know that in a bullying situation, the bully is the one who is sad, conflicted, and troubled. I can maintain my calm, my respose, and let him worry about himself."

"So the bully seeks to hurt the bullee, but the bullee wins over the bully."