text: Part I: The Speech “Humans ruin everything. These were the last words my mother said to me. She said, ‘In all my years on this world only one thing has remained consistent: Humans ruin everything.’ She was right. They destroyed the land we shared in the name of their innovation. They fought with each other for ownership of something no one should own. They even took us from our homes & domesticated us so we could be their pets. We were the lucky ones. Others they hunted. They killed us for food; they killed us for sport. War & climate change & hunting & mass meat production & animal euthanasia & abuse & sports that break our bodies & vehicular animal slaughter & religious sacrifices & the clothes they wear & chemical warfare & animal currency & oil spills & veterinary impounds! Our blood is on their hands. Humans. Ruin. Everything. Humans ruin everything! It’s time we say enough is enough. It’s time we fight back. I know you may think we don’t stand a chance. That their technology is too great. You’re right. Individually, we don’t stand a chance. But we are not individuals. We are a collective. Members of different phyla & classes, yes, but we are one kingdom. One united animal kingdom. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we stand a chance. Which is why I come before you. In times like these, we need unity, not division. we need action, not peacekeeping. We need a leader.” For a moment cheers and indiscernible chants drowned out the speaker. “And I would be that leader!” The chants became more clear as the crowd’s individual shouts shifted to one phrase. “I need you! Your president of the United Animal Kingdom needs you!” At this remark, the noise became overwhelming for minutes. The speaker waited. Eventually silence fell over the crowd again, and he continued. “It is no longer time we fight amongst ourselves! It is no longer time we sit idly by our own abuse! It is time we fight back! They are strong, but we are many. We are in their homes, their places of business, their places of leisure. It is time we fight back!” The cheers washed over the crowd again. “It is time we go to war. Are you with me? Annelida & Nematoda?” There was a brief hesitation, then one section of the crowd lifted their voices. “Amphibians & Reptiles? Birds & Mammals?” This time there was no pause. A united shout came from the largest section of the crowd. “Crustaceans, Labiatae, Porifera, Cnideria, Mollusca & Chelicerates?” The remainder of the crowd rumbled in unison. Then all the crowd stamped and shouted again. The speaker relished in the chaos and waited. When it was silent, he spoke slower and quieter than before. “Humans ruin everything. Enough is enough. To war.” Part II: The Bond I remember everything. I remember where I was: the outdoor court at my school, underneath the basketball hoop with the torn net. I remember what I was wearing: my striped yellow shirt & denim shorts, white tennis shoes with laces undone & a blue baseball cap too big for my small head. I remember everything about the day when the speech played over the broadcast. Car radios, televisions, anything that could transmit audio, all a conduit for dissension. I remember when the chatter of the school principal over my PA system was interrupted by a piercing frequency. The frequency was underlaid by three abrupt, almost indiscernible words that changed the course of the world: humans ruin everything. The reaction was slow, then everything all at once. First no panic, just confusion. Children ceased play; teachers looked to each other for affirmation that they heard it too. Then something changed in the world around us, as the world around us turned its head to fight back. I heard it before I saw it. A soft buzz, like the sound of my dad’s electric razor. Louder, then louder, like the swarm of bees that chased me the summer before this one. Then the sharp trill from a teacher’s whistle as a horde of dogs, cats, and rodents reached the crest of the hill behind my schoolyard. Then I ran. I’d never owned an animal. I loved animals, but my parents said they did not want pets in the house. I always loved animals though. My parents initially objected when I told them I wanted to be vegetarian, but eventually they gave in. Whenever the school cafeteria gave me ham sandwiches I would only eat the bread. I took the deli slices off and put them in my pocket. Then at recess I went to the dumpsters behind the school and shared my leftovers with the stray dog who lived there. I ran into the school, through the hallways, and into my classroom where I crouched under my desk and listened. The sound of violence, barks and hisses and screams, broke through the walls. Over the sounds from outside, I heard the pitter patter of feet trotting in the hallway. The steps grew louder as they approached the classroom, then they stopped. The door creaked and I regretted not checking it was shut. I heard short, shallow breaths, like sniffing. The intruder cast a monstrous shadow on the wall opposite me. I held my breath. The pitter patter continued, loud then quieter. I waited until the steps were far enough away, then I crawled toward the door. I eased the door open far enough to poke my head out. I heard a low growl that made the hair on my arm stand up. At the end of the hallway I saw a dog. The dog wasn’t growling at me. It wasn’t even looking at me. What was it growling at? Against my better judgment, I pushed my slim body out of the classroom and into the hallway. As I got closer, I recognized the merle coat of the stray dog from the dumpsters. He was standing in the doorway, blocking entry from other animals outside the doorway. A raccoon and two cats pawed and hissed at my protector, but he maintained his stance. One of the cats lunged at him first, then the other animals followed. I saw the flash of claws and heard the snap of teeth. It was over in an instant. A cat and a raccoon stumbled away, the other cat lay still. The dog turned and sauntered to me. I extended my hand, palm open. His tongue tickled my fingers when he licked my hand. “You saved me, buddy. Thank you.” When we made eye contact I got caught in the contrast of his eyes, one a warm brown, the other a piercing blue. Under his blue eye was a fresh cut. The bright red against the blue made me feel nauseous. “Come on, buddy, the nurse’s office isn’t far. We gotta get you cleaned up.” He put his head down and sighed, then licked at his leg. He’d been bit there too. “You’re really hurt. It’s okay, I’ll carry you.” He wasn’t too heavy. Being a stray kept him slim. He licked my face while I walked down the hall with him in my arms. When we got to the nurse’s office, supplies from medical kits were dumped on the ground and pillaged through. It looked like the year before when a hurricane hit. I found the disinfectant, a towel, and a bandage. “Sorry buddy, this might sting.” He blinked, unfazed. “Okay, here goes.” After I’d wrapped his leg in bandages, we sat in the nurse’s office for a while to let his leg heal. “The world is going to be different now. If humans and animals are fighting, there will be war everywhere.” Sadness ran over my body like winter’s cold. “We can’t stay here. No one will let a human and a dog be together as long as there’s war.” He rested his head on my lap and whimpered. “Don’t worry, boy. I’ll get us out of here.” My eyes drifted to the wall with a framed map of South Dakota, my home state. “I think you need a name. How about Dakota?” His ears perked up. “Don’t worry Dakota. I’ll get us out of here.” My eyes lingered on the map, and I remembered the trip my class took to the South Dakota Air and Space Museum the year before. I pet Dakota between his ears and his eyes flicked open and shut, fighting sleep. “I think I know a way to get us out of here, Dakota. Get some rest now, we’ll leave soon.” Part III: The Voyage We are drifting. I don’t know where we are. I don’t know where we are going. He says that it will be okay. I believe him. I’m not sure how long it’s been since we left. It wasn’t meant to end this way, humans destroying the world, and the world destroying humans. We could have lived together peacefully. Maybe humans are to blame. That dog on the radio didn’t believe most of what it said, it only wanted to create division and seize power. I can’t believe it worked. Animals everywhere bought into the lies, and now the world may never be the same. So long pale blue dot. The dog on the radio said that humans ruin everything, that all humans are bad. Maybe humans are to blame. But I don’t think they’re all bad. I think I found a good one. He says we’re going somewhere without war. He says that it will be okay. I believe him.