“THAT’S THE WAY IT IS”

I am my Master’s right hand man and he calls me Ivan, though I know not if that is my real title. I obediently respond to my Master by addressing him as Sir – or Cur if he is feeling somewhat frisky, which he can and does do after Friday evening cocktails. He does not normally allow me a sense of humour and I’m afraid that’s as good as it gets. You didn’t get it? I am sorry, please – I shall tell you a little more of my Master and perhaps you then may understand.

His real name is Sir Hubert Jaxworthy and he is married to the Bitch, Sasha Jaxworthy. My Master is a Rottweiller and as the head of the largest financial institution in Australia, he is a very powerful dog in both the business and political world. For most of the year he, we that is, reside in the Worlds’ most influential financial district in downtown Durban, South Africa. I much prefer living in Sydney than Durban but being human, I have no say in my Master’s business affairs, or any other affairs for that matter.

My job is simply to present him with his food twice a day, ensure that he has a constant supply of fresh water, wash him at least twice per week, trim his nails monthly, and cart around his favourite tree stump in a kiln fired terracotta pot. I am also his private assistant for all, almost all, his personal and professional affairs.

I digress though from the true purpose of this missive. This introduction was to establish the credentials of my Master, credentials which I believe are impeccable and therefore the import of what follows is vital to all who read this, especially if you, like me, are human.

The following was dictated to me by my Master on the nights’ of the 17th and 18th of June in the year 1984. It took two laborious nights as Sir did over imbibe on the first and his pertinent palaver became somewhat lost amongst his furtive ramblings of things irrelevant. As heart wrenching and frightening as they were, and probably indicative of the mood such revelations engender, I took the safe liberty of only recording the salient points, simply hitting my keyboard as if I was typing everything so that he would not hesitate or take his mind from his painful and terrible task (Sir is not violent when drunk but rather licentious when there are bitches around).

For my own credibility, I should add that I am a servant of my Master willingly and that I believe it is the true place of we humans in this world – to serve. I have been using these portable battery operated keyboards for almost a decade, I know not its correct title either, and I have been spiriting my Master and his entourage around the world in his own supersonic business jet (Sir did on more than one occasion ‘strongly suggest’ we break through the earth’s atmosphere and it was truly a sight to behold, though space travel is common, indeed, they have just begun construction of the moon’s eleventh city and a third on Mars) and I truly believe that if we humans had been the ruling species, we would still be wasting our lives and time building self destructive machines designed to maim and kill humans and other living things instead of pooling our efforts for the good of the planet and all species therein.

I know my mind is capable of vastly more independent thought than even my Master but it is also clouded by issues that wreak havoc and simply waste time. My Master himself has actually admitted this very thing to me, usually accompanied by a drool laden grin from one side of his muzzle, but we have known each other all of his short life and he is acutely aware of my true beliefs and subservience to his greater overall abilities. He rose not from power inherited and therefore ill prepared to wield such sovereignty, but by the virtue of his own skill and intelligence which in the canine world, is instantly recognised and lauded.

However, back to my Master’s epistle. If the first part be somewhat disjointed, as I have previously noted this was due to Sir’s inebriation and my own shortcomings to decipher the salient points. The overall message remains clear for all.

17th June, 1984 —

From the Office of Sir Hubert Jaxworthy – General Manager and President of the Earth Bank, 7192 Mains Road, Sydney Central City, County Australia.

I dictate this message of galactic import to my faithful manservant Ivan who I also empower, in actual fact order, to use all means possible to disseminate the information therein to all relevant species. (Hereinafter, the italics are my own comment – Ivan)

During my years as inarguably the most powerful Dog within the south sphere of this our planet Earth, certain information has come my way that disturbs me in a way that I almost think with humanoid morality, although this is of course not possible as we all know (I disagree – Sir is worldly and wise and understands the human psyche. He uses this uncanny ability to draw upon assets that the canine species cannot possess. These assets have made him what he is today and for better or worse, lead him to the conclusions that he now troubles over so miserably.). The first revelation is this.

Many hundreds of years ago, the dominant species of the world and only this world as far as we are aware, were Felines. Humanoids, humans, served these Felines similarly to what they now do for Canines. Felines were not as future dependant as we, and apparently there exists records which purport to demonstrate that as a species, they lived only for recreation. I do not know how it would be possible to survive and progress if that was truthfully their main vocation however, I have it under inscrutable authority that it is fact. Perhaps that it is why we evolved to be the next dominant species. I have never seen a Feline or even have any remote idea of what one looked like, but I do not doubt that they existed at some time. It was only from human records that we determined these creatures existed at all. As we of the Canine species are also known as Dogs, so were the Felines spoken of as Cats by prehistoric humans but I have never met a human that knows what a Cat is or was. I would have liked to have seen these human records that supposedly exist. (I have never heard of the existence of any human transcripts, or indeed of a Cat. I was most surprised at my Master’s words but my concern was more at his demeanour and what other news was making him act in this most peculiar way.)

Canines are peaceful and we encourage the growth of all other species both here on earth and at our other outlying habitations (the Moon and Mars he refers to, though as with the Cats, I have no idea of what other creatures they have discovered on those satellite nations.) However, according to these human records, it is we, Dogs, who were responsible for the extinction of the Felines and taking over the progression of this planet toward what it is today. Most horribly, that extinction of Cats was manipulated, directed using the very nature of the Cats against them.

Their laziness, or what may have only been a peaceful servitude perpetuated by the lack of any apparent threat, was used by mobs of semi-trained professionals to carry out what were, in essence, mass assassinations. There were no weapons in existence other than tooth and claw and as gruesome as it may sound, that is how the cats were disposed of, and by no means was that the worst of what is to come. The controlled elimination occurred over a period of some eight Dog years until complete eradication was achieved, and I shudder that some of my very own ancestors could have been involved in such a blood thirsty action. I feel sick to my stomach whenever I think of it. Sasha does not know and I do not want her to know (it was here that Sir began to ramble more and more, relative to his continued consumption of alcoholic beverage. I maintained my composure and make believe for my Master’s sake by pretending to be punching keys. I do not believe that he said anything more this night that required public record. I am in great pain myself that he is suffering in this way and eventually I was able to transfer him in a semi comatose state to his residence. Madame Sasha, a lovely bitch, takes over the worry from me and I am, thankfully, finally dismissed for the evening.)

18th June, 1984 —

My Master appears in better spirits tonight though he has attended Friday cocktails, but I do not believe that he consumed any alcohol. If that be true then it would be a first since he has been attending these functions, but I am glad nonetheless. Perhaps we can finish this story of his as it would be false of me to say I was not curious – and extremely concerned.

Let us continue Ivan my faithful friend (Many nomenclatures he has adorned on me whilst intoxicated, but not of such a personable nature and never once has he referred to me as a friend – it worries me greatly knowing that he does so with all sobriety) and get this distasteful task over and done with so that Fate can then muster its defences against impending evil. Ah, Ivan, I see you glance at me from the corner of your eyes at that. Dear Ivan, if I may, you ARE my friend and there IS evil on the way. There, I know that does not ease your burdon but should you be carrrying even a thousandth of my own then your shoulderrs would have beeen bburied into the sidewalks bby now. So take some of the weight by rrecording these wordds, and quickly, for I feell that all is acccelerrating to a ppoint where it willl bbe too late. (I am now so frightened that I uncharacteristically have made many spelling errors. His huge paw on my shoulder now steadies me).

I have told you of the demise of the Felines. That should have prepared you for what was to come. My information is that the Felines were not terribly useful and immediate past thinking of the Earth Government, and current thinking of more than a few powerful Senators within, is that humans are now considered superfluous as well. Steady Ivan, steady. My contacts assure me that secret agendas have been agreed to so that other species will evolve to replace humans and the tasks they currently do for us. You have seen the Crystal Programs no doubt, where monkeys, chimpanzees and orangutans can already accomplish many human functions, ironically taught to them by their human handlers. These will be the human replacements and over the next ten years, yes, that is my information, over the next decade the human race is to be systematically eradicated.

I believe that it may already have started, the so called Cultural Revolution in Asia East and the uprising by the Doberman master race in Europe Central. There are many other like disturbances all over the globe but they are the grandest in scale at this time.

It behoves me that I will appear a traitor to my own Species for this, but I cannot and will not standby and do nothing. Advise as many of your kind as you can Ivan and prepare to fight for your very existence (A silent alarm has just activated – the Master and I are the only ones that know of it, and now also of what it could herald.) Go now Dearest Ivan, we may already be too late but you must try. Quick, the private exit, take the chopter then the jet My Friend. You will be safe as we Dogs cannot fly or activate the necessary equipment to disable the machinery … yet. But hurry My Friend. Go. Spread the word. Defend yourself. Ivan, stop typing and go

(I did not immediately go to the roof, but I did retreat to the private exit as ordered. From the relative safety there I watched as my Master was firstly surrounded by all manner of thugs, Wolves, Dobermans, and multiples of barstard mixed breeds which by their very size and viciousness qualified them for these horrid duties. I thought all Canines were as for my Master, caring, gentle, thoughtful, but now I see with my own eyes the credence my Master’s final statement did not for me require. But it is a credibility that will be recognised elsewhere. He is lead away in leashes, his proud head is held high. With heavy sadness I understand that so many questions remain unanswered, not the least being ‘why’? So it’s you and me now my friends. To arms. To arms.)

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