What Our Dogs Would Tell This Community
🎙️ “We watched. We listened. We understood more than you think.”
🐕 We Saw Everything
If dogs could speak, they would tell you that they saw it all.
They saw the tears, the fear, the humiliation.
They watched as the woman they loved – their human –
was broken by indifference disguised as governance.
They saw her crawl on the floor, whispering apologies for pain she didn’t cause.
And they wondered: why do humans make cruelty look like duty?
🐾 You called it “procedure.” They called it suffering.
❤️🩹 We Worked Harder Than Any Doctor
When the medication stopped helping,
when therapy met the wall of your hostility,
our dogs kept going.
They laid across the chest to slow the panic.
They nudged a shaking hand until it remembered touch.
They listened to sobs that no one else wanted to hear.
💔 They worked harder than any professional you’ve ever paid.
Because they were saving what you were destroying.
🐾 We Know Who the Good Ones Are
They would tell you that they know who the kind ones are
the few who reached out,
not the many who chose silence.
They would say that loyalty is not obedience –
it’s empathy in action.
And they would tell you, plainly:
“We would never behave like you.”
🪞 They Would Hold Up a Mirror
If dogs could speak, they would not bark.
They would testify.
They would tell you that you should be ashamed.
🐶 “You punished love. You punished trust. You punished care.”
They would look you in the eye – calm, unafraid –
and ask the question that ends all excuses:
“When did humanity become optional?”
🩶 And Then, My Little Grey Dog
And then, my little grey dog –
the one you tried to separate from me –
would step forward,
stand before the microphone,
and speak for every silenced soul.
🎙️ “She didn’t need rules. She needed kindness.
She didn’t need your authority. She needed peace.
I saw her crawl on the floor, crying, broken, while you called it compliance.
And I would never – never – behave like you.”
🕊️ And Still, He Would Forgive You
Because mercy is written in his fur,
and decency in his eyes.
He would wag his tail once – not in joy,
but in farewell to your arrogance.
And then he would walk away,
leaving behind the sound of your silence
and the weight of your shame.
