Short musing

It’s not the leash. It is everything around the leash.

The rules, the disinterest, the humiliation.

I’m not to be on furniture,

I’m not to stand
Always on my knees and hands.

No speaking until I’m spoke to, but I can bark if I need somthing.

Not allowed to use the bathroom, must go outside.

I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything not from my bowls.

It calls to me, dear god to be a doggie
No a good doggie