Training My Puppy To Be Existential



This is Bailey, a puppy we adopted just before Christmas, thus naming him George Bailey. He dropped the George because he felt it too cumbersome for such a cute little canine. He was a rescue but truth be told we rescued each other. Two Dark souls who feel like the Universe is against them. The main difference is while Bailey has the youthful energy and exuberance of a child, I have reached a point where energy has been replaced by wisdom. A clever way to describe finally getting it after you’re too old to use it. Either way, it has become my responsibility to raise my puppy as an existentially evolved wolf.


So I have been tasked with teaching this cute little Labee (a term coined by some hipster Millennial with a ManBun describing a mix between a Labrador Retriever and a Beagle) to become an enlightened and existential canine. TBT, he already has a good grasp on some basic existential concepts, such as the importance of the self. He clearly accepts the fact that his self is the center of his universe. Unfortunately he also has a firm grasp on possessions with his sharp teeth and strong jaw. This habit is far more about anarchy than existentialism, but still the insignificance of ownership of material objects is an important facet of understanding existentialism. Like most canines politics are important to the pack mentality. Come to think about it, he views me not as his owner, but more like his Socialist Government who distributes food drink and shelter in return for a modicum of loyalty.


Spending most of his time with his Hippie counter-culture grandpa, a few unusual dog training methods were bound to be instituted. I had to train him to be a canine and also to survive in a humans world. First things being first I had to teach him some basic dog rules. The first rule of the dog world is all about common canine decency. Rule One I had to teach him was never ever, no matter how much undigested food there is in another dogs stool, you don’t eat other dogs shit! His nose sniffs the ground near an opposing canines unpicked up fecal matter like it’s a huge line of cocaine with a bonus at the end. Most trainers offered advice like say “leave it” or “stay away” while tugging gently on his leash. But again, being a Hippie grandpa I choose to use my own commands. I yell “Bong Water” and pull him away. Why? Because if you have ever woken up after an evening of massive bong hits in a mental haze of fog with the driest cotton mouth you’ve ever experienced and accidentally drank the liquid contents in your bong you will understand how ridiculously disgusting “Bong Water” tastes. For me it was one of the most objectionable tastes ever so to say it as my dog is about to partake of something gross it just seemed fitting.


Thing is dogs don’t understand our language, just the words we use. If you constantly say stand when you really want them to sit they won’t stare at you and correct your grammar, they will follow the command according to the words used to train and reinforce the desired result. A sharp loud “Dude” tells Bailey to pay attention to me. The softer “Here Little Dude” lets him know I’m pulling a Milk Bone from my pocket. It’s hard breaking through because Bailey is going through a self awareness crisis, I throw a ball and the Labrador in him chases it while the Beagle in him refuses to give it back. It creates a game of distrust and keep away that perplexes us both. Anyway, time to get back to my Existentialism Canine Training.


It was very difficult to get Bailey to understand the concept of all dogs don’t go to heaven because existentially heaven doesn’t exist for any of us. All the dogs in the neighborhood are counting on this concept but the truth is it’s just a rumor started by a Pitt Bull from down the block. This has made my existential training from the canine philosophical point of view somewhat difficult. To explain his separation from his earthly existence is quite a challenge. His sense of reason seems non existent. I can’t figure out why he does some of the crazy things he does. For instance, he will chew twigs and eat dirt but then stare at me for giving him what he considers to be shit dogfood. And the shit is like mostly chicken, because the first time I bought him food with too much grain in it the young store cashier looked at me like I was a piece of gluten. If eyes could spoil a dinner, I’d have been a meal in the garbage.

So I continue to hope, launching into philosophical dissertations as we walk I express my thoughts about God, existence, and living in a Kafkaesque world. I’m guessing it will take a lot of profound monologues to break down the thousands of years of evolution both our species have experienced aside from having gone through much of it together in a symbiotic relationship. So for now I suppose I’ll just have to be satisfied with repeating quotes from Sartre and Camus, while expressing my deep love of Hermann Hesse works and my affinity for Kierkegaard while we go out on our adventures in the suburban jungle. At least he gives me the courtesy of pretending he gets me…. Live and Love in Peace





Taciturn and withdrawn
An outsider from within
Strange man strange world
Lopsided empty grin

An unusual man with blood on his hand
Police took him in for a personal session
Why did he kill a man on the beach
But that was just part of their question
Come on son come talk to us
We will treat you as a brother
Why did you shoot and kill a man
Why don’t you love your mother
I wasn’t really thinking anything
When the stranger began his advance
Life is pointless and so is this
I’m apathetically enhanced

Staring bug eyed in disbelief
The cop attempted to set the scene
When he asked if the man believes in god
The stranger answered “what do you mean?”

The interrogator raised his voice up high
Vocal chords trembling with deep distain
Face full of red and finger pointing
At this killer who took god in vain

don’t you understand
You cant be a man
He sent his only son
To suffer for your gun
You killed another man
Yet you don’t understand
You shot an Arab dead
Four times into the head
Pumped him full of lead
Now the Lord is at your bed
Yet you question god instead


You tell me Jesus suffered
To free me of my shame
Nailed upon a cross of hate
Suffered hours of pain
Absolving us of all our sin
Is that how it begins?
Many died by point of sword
So you can praise your mighty lord
Murder maim blood and libel
Read it all inside your Bible
You sing and praise him once a week
Excuse me sir your faith is bleak

How can you sit here silent
A criminal so violent
One who causes harm
Discards his mom
Worst of all you have the gall
To not believe in god
Your life is a facade
Your guilty of a murder boy
Your going to lose your head
The chaplain wants to see you
But you go to sleep instead
Good lord son what’s on your mind
You are on trial for someone’s murder
Do you even understand?
You couldn’t act any more absurder


You say it’s a trial of murder yet question my belief
Or if I love my mom so much why don’t I practice grief
Because I’m not like you I must be guilty?
Sir I may not be a genius
But faith is for your convenience
Life is vague and meaningless
I don’t care if your God exists
Ignorance is your only bliss
I only want leave
Its not that I don’t believe
It just will never make a difference
No difference to my existence
I don’t need your assistance
Tired of your insistence
I need to keep my distance
Away from your persistence
That your gods existence
Makes a bit of difference
To how I live my life
What’s happened has happened
Only my name is blackened
I am just man
Who killed another man
My life is plain
Like you I pain
Why do say I take god in vain?
I don’t like your spin
No one perished for my sin
You believe your Gods a hero
I believe the theory of zero
You still hold tight your mothers breast
I allow my Maman to rest
That makes me different, not guilty
Not filthy
As you suggest
You say I should die
Because I didn’t cry
At the viewing of my Moms final mile
No tear did I shed
A woman shared my bed
We shared a night of pleasure
What makes you so clever?
My demeanor is not what should be on trial
Not religious denial
I shot in self defense
That’s all that makes sense
What difference if I believe your religion
Put my Mom in a home
And I left her alone
that’s no reason for you to want me in prison
I’m existential
I have not a single goal
Yours is to see my head roll
Life is pointless nothings real
Go ahead, kill me
Then kneel
Kneel and prey to your Lord
And ask for forgiveness

Strangers Judge
In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost I sentence you to death. May God have mercy on your soul