they tell us
don’t bite the hand that feeds you.
don’t snap at your provider,
how would you survive without them?
they say we should be grateful
for all they do
grateful for the caged shelter
grateful for the processed food
grateful for the small joys they allow us
if we are deemed good.

but their hand is not gentle
they do not pet our fur,
they yank and pull.
they collar us
when we don’t behave.
they convince us the leather around our jaw
is for our own protection
but complicity will never lead to comfort.
the sting of their blows will never
stop hurting until we
Bite Back.
the more we allow
the more they will take.

they will force a leash on you
to persuade you you’re powerless
but their teeth are not as sharp as ours
their weapons will not excoriate as deep as our claws
their power comes from perceived notions
and it is as malleable as flesh
we can scrape it off the ancient bones it clings to,
with the brawn of dogs
and the minds of women
Bite the hand that feeds you.