Exhibitionist? No. You’re a show dog and I’m treating you like one.
Each morning your outfit is chosen for you. Picked not for your taste, or the style you thought was yours, but because I want to show off specific features. Chosen because I want to show off the lines and curves of your body. Chosen because that’s how I want to advertise you to everyone that might see you through the day.
Your coat and nails will be handled by a professional. They’ll wash you, touching you everywhere you once thought was personal and private. You’ll be spoken over as it’s decided for you what style, what cut, what shade will be the best to frame your face. More importantly, they have to consider what’s in season. Your look will be kept current, clean, and pristine. If you give them trouble you’ll be put in a slip lead, tied off by the collar to the table and kept still by hands used to dealing with nippy dogs. Too much trouble and they’ll muzzle you before continuing.
If you embarrass me I’ll drop you off drugged to your next appointment.
We’ll spend hours training the way you walk. With a collar around your throat and a taut leash you’ll learn to keep perfect step at my side. You’ll learn to turn and halt with the smallest adjustment, the smallest tug of your leash. You’ll learn to keep your steps even, regardless of the pace or what I might have dressed you in. You’ll be expected to show this same level of respect, obedience, and focus to anyone I hand your leash to. If I decide I want to see you paraded around the ring by someone you’ve never met, you’ll be expected to follow. Match their pace without ever looking back or pulling. Show me I can trust your training even away from me, that you’ll work to present and behave in the manner I’ve come to expect from you regardless of distance.
You’ll be expected to hold perfectly still as strangers examine your body under glaring lights. They’ll touch along your back, down your tummy, and between your legs. You’ll be overwhelmed with the simple joy a dog has when it knows it’s doing something right. Just hold still. Let them do as they need to. Just hold still and behave.
You’ll see yourself on the TV when I invite our friends over to watch your latest performance.
“The judge’s hands must have been cold, look at the goosebumps!”
I’ll call you over, the star of the hour. I’ll show them all the tricks I’ve taught you, all the work I’ve put into your socialization.
The same way the judge’s hands roamed and explored your body, our friends will do the same. They’ll comment loudly over the way your skin twitches and muscles dance. They’ll giggle to each other as they see how excited you get at the idea of performing once more.
You’ll never hesitate to follow along with their poking and prodding. You’ll never consider what these people used to be to you, or the social bonds you once had. You’ll never consider who or what you once were.
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