FLEAS
(Dialogues with my dog)

MAX is scratching. Fleas! What a nuisance! The endless war
between dog and under-dog!
Oh, my poor and faithful friend! Your mother didn't bear you
into this world to feed the fleas! Your ancestor, the wolf
and its pack, was honored and feared!  Where is he now? What
sad a fate! You read no history books!
-Who was first: the chicken, the egg, or the politician

?
-Irrelevant my dear Watson! The wolf can do without the
flea, but no vice versa!
- Hey, hey, I'll save the world today! No more rabies! Said
Dr. Louis Pasteur and got a Nobel Prize! No Nobel Prize will
free you from fleas and their cousins! I hear Nobel's,
Nobel's all over; I can hear no bells of salvation!
My dear dog! DDT and pesticides poisoned your lungs! You
looked like a king! Professors and barbers deprived you of
your proud mane. Oh, how I miss Achitofel's honest opinion!

Scratch for a lifetime, you'll never get rid of them! They
hide under your hide and nose, you'll never reach them! You
are the clown of the town, of the whole world! Now they
organize:
- Fleas of the world unite! You have nothing to loose but
your chains! (What chains? No chains! Just the good, old,
brainwashing propaganda!)
-The fleas are God's creation too! They are accepted as
plenipotentiary members of the United Nations. Every
creature's blood feeds a flea, a parasite of some kind' even
humans.
- No exemptions! Who do you think you are? Have you been
chosen for some special assignment? Are you leading the
blind? Are you God's watchdog? Canis dominis? Perhaps
domino? (Perhaps salami?)
Josef with the Golden Fleece! Free flea's fleece! They will
prove' above any shade of doubt, that they were on your back
even before you were born! Your constant scratching disturbs
their peace!  Your DDT endangers the environment! Get lost!
The fleas are declaring independence, on your back. They
want your kennel! They want the good old bones you hid in
the garden. They want your ancestor's bones too! They want
the right to howl to the moon!
They sentence you to death! Franz Kafka's nightmare HAS come
true!

If there is any consolation: There are no fleas in the
grave!