The Crepuscular Zone Presents: Dog's Best Friend

Imagine a world where humans are no longer the dominant species. Instead, the planet Earth is under the iron dew-claw of canis familiaris, AKA: the domestic dog. 

No one remembers what caused the humans to stumble from their lofty perch as rulers of the world. Looking around at our own world today, it would not be overly-cynical to surmise that it was completely our own fault. On a planet lacking an alpha species, the humble dog rose up the evolutionary ladder to become larger, smarter, and even walk upright like the hominids before them. As for the remaining humans...well, let's check on them now, shall we?

On the corner of Biscuit and Ball Street, we find our first rover-run residence. The hirsute homeowner has just returned from work. It's been a long day at the cannery, and Rex Whippet is going to take his pet human, Johnny, out for an evening drive. 

Oh yes, that's right; the dogs have pet humans. That's what I was alluding to earlier. You were supposed to see that coming so don't feel too clever. Look what being clever got the humans of this world, after all. 

Now where were we? Ah yes.

The domesticated human, homo sapiens familiaris, has the basic trappings of those ancient humans from long ago, but they are much smaller, with rounder heads and smaller brains. While they are still physically capable of extended bouts of bipedalism, most prefer to ambulate in a decidedly quadrupedal fashion. They walk on all fours, is what I'm getting at.

Rex Whippet had just purchased a brand new Pawntiac Dog Star Chief Station Wagon and was still learning the nuances of the powerful, straight eight engine that produced 127 horsepower. That's right; horses still exist in this world, but they're pretty much just regular horses. We don't want to throw too many metaphors at you, even in this painfully basic allegory. But I digress.

Rex Whippet sped down the quiet suburban street in his Pawntiac, windows down, with Johnny the human sitting happily on Rex's lap, sticking his head out the window. Rex sang along to the latest hit song from The Beatles playing on the AM radio station. 

That's right; this world has The Beatles. Why wouldn't they? Most worlds do. 

Suddenly, a stray lottery ticket fluttered into the road, and a stray Karen darted after it, directly into the path of the roaring vehicle. 

Rex swerved, overcorrected, and with a sound of thunder, smashed into a massive oak tree. The airbag deployed and Rex was wearing his seatbelt, so he was okay...but where was Johnny, his faithful human?

Quickly he realized the real question was, "Where wasn't Johnny?"

The cars on this planet were designed and built to protect their evolved canine occupants. Upright, bipedal, mid-center-of-gravity canines. Not low-slung, quadrupedal, high-center-of-gravity humans. Seated as he was on his master's lap in the front seat of the car at time of collision, Johnny the human had not fared so well.

In the first millisecond of the car impacting the tree, Johnny was launched forward like a little naked football. (Technically he maintained his original velocity while the car itself stopped its forward motion, but this is easier for you to understand this way.) His flat little face was just shattering through the windshield when the airbag deployed and caught his back legs, which started him cartwheeling, slamming his legs up into the roof of the car. Having shattered completely through the windshield now, the force of the impact with the roof started him cartwheeling in the opposite direction, spinning through the air like an ancient Olympic gymnast. Then he hit the oak tree. No perfect ten for Johnny.

Now we leave Rex Whippet, howling in grief over the loss of his beloved pet, cursing himself for being so foolish as to let him ride in the front seat of a car built for humans-I mean dogs- and expect everything to be just fine if he ever got in a collision. (Rex Whippet would later go on to invent a time machine to go back and change this horrible day, but that turned out to be a whole thing, full of ironic twists.)

Did you guess the name of this planet?

That's right; it was Earth! It was our planet! I told you in the beginning but it looked like you had forgotten so I'm telling you again. 

So the next time you think about letting your beloved hound ride up front in the car with you, remember the story of Rex Whippet and dear old Johnny. Sure, maybe it'll be just another pleasant drive, with no flat tires, nobody cuts you off, nobody runs a grey light, and you'll end up right back home safe and sound. Or maybe, just maybe, you might take one wrong turn and find yourself... In The Crepuscular Zone.

THE END?

Author's Note: That "alpha dog" study is bullshit and we really need to stop pretending that's a thing. It's like me saying I'm ill-tempered because my humors are imbalanced; too much yellow bile don't ya know. I use it here because I'm going for a retro vibe and that fits right in. Also how evolution isn't a ladder; it's just natural selection for survival in a given environment. Complexity is often confused for superiority and that's the wrong way to look at it. I'm sure this blog will convince everyone, finally. 

My only other regret is that I couldn't work in the phrase "furry Fuhrer". That would never happen in this world because dogs are not evil. There could never be a Pawlocaust. 

I'll see myself out.