Dan's Papers - June 12, 2009 - Encounter at the Beach

A chocolate lab, about 60 pounds, is wandering down the beach a hundred years from now, sniffing at this and that, when he hears a voice calling to him.

He turns. Twenty feet away is an alien from outer space, glowing green, 10-feet high and with five hairy arms and legs. The dog wags happily. A new friend!

"Don't give me that crap," the alien says. The lab stops wagging. "Come over here."

The lab shrugs. "Okay," he says, for as it happens, these two understand one another quite perfectly. The lab saunters over. On his way, he sees a crumpled up beer can in the sand. So he picks it up in his teeth and, when he arrives, holds it up - a gesture of friendship.

"You sicken me," the alien says.

The lab drops it. "I didn't mean..."

"You think that is a toy, something to throw and fetch. Isn't that it?"

"Look around. Don't you get it? Don't you see what is going on here?"

The lab looks around. He doesn't get it.

"The beach is a mess. You've even got a beer can between your paws."

"I can grab it if it's scrunched up like this," the lab says. He nudges it with his nose.

"The whole place is a mess. Air pollution, water pollution, chemicals, carbon monoxide. The humans did it. And what did you dogs do about it? Nothing."

"I don't know anything about that."

"Practically everything natural here is gone. The songbirds. The polar bears. The vegetation. The fish. The humans ruined it."

"They're good to me. They feed me. They put water in my dish. They take me for walks. I like them."

"We reached out to you. We thought you, as the companion animals, were the one group of creatures that might get through to them. All the other creatures were just in the wild. Didn't care. Didn't even notice as they became fewer and fewer. But you dogs. We had high hopes."

"I heard we were supposed to warn them. Others did too. But we're man's best friend."

"I don't believe you. Look around. Don't you care? Everything is ruined. You're an animal. Don't you think you're an animal?"

"We don't think like that."

"You betrayed us. We asked you to get them to stop, get them to respect the world and its place in the universe. You did nothing."

"Why didn't you talk to them yourself, then?"

"We're not from Earth. We're from elsewhere. If we told them what to do, we'd be viewed as conquerors and they'd declare war. We're not warlike. So it had to be creatures on Earth talking to those in charge to get them to stop."

"You have any fresh water?"

"I need some fresh water. I've been running around. Got any? Can't drink that stupid ocean. I tried."

"No. I don't drink water. Look can we talk more about this?"

"I'll have to run back soon to get water."

"Let me ask you something. You come down here. You poop on the beach. Remember how nice it used to be? You'd poop, others would poop, and you'd sniff and then read the poops on the beach? Now whenever you poop they're behind you with those stupid plastic baggies. You don't even matter. Everybody else gets to poop but you."

"You don't think there's something wrong with that? Poop in plastic bags?"

"They took care of it."

"You are so, so misinformed."

"Did you ever have Alpo beef slices? It's slow churned. Says so right on the can. And it's delicious. Yum."

"They love us. They scratch our bellies. We come when they call. They give us treats. We sleep at their feet. They bring friends with dogs over. We bark at intruders."

"Not at all. We never work. Not a minute. Not a day. They are OUR slaves. They brush us. They groom us. They wash us. They give us dog bones. They tell us how much they love us. They take us for rides in the car."

"The cars were their downfall."

"You had to be there. It is so fun. You put your head out the window and open your mouth and your cheeks puff and your tongue lolls around. There are new places, new smells, new adventures."

"People still have cars?"

"We are so disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry then. Would you like me to bring you a stick? Wait, I'll get you a stick." The dog runs off.

"This planet has just suffered through the greatest catastrophe in the entire universe, and he is going to get me a stick."

The dog returns with a stick and sets it down. He is respecting the alien. The alien doesn't care. He thinks, "I've come back down here to see if all the humans are gone yet. And they are not. There are enclaves of them, still trashing everything, still garbaging up the planet."

He turns to the black lab. "How could you DO this? How could you let this happen?" he booms.

The lab takes a few steps back, and then sits.

The alien starts laughing insanely. Then he stops.

"Sit," he shouts. "Stay."

The lab does not move.

"Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless," he mutters to himself, shaking one of his two titanium heads. "How could Bar Jarell have thought..."

"Do you want me to come with you?" the lab asks brightly.

"Yeah. You look neat."

"Hopeless. No, I do not want you to come with me. But answer me this."

"I last came here to scout around 10 years ago. Are there fewer of them or more of them?"

"Humans? Fewer. A lot fewer. And they yell at each other a lot now. It's not good."

"What do they yell about?"

"Rules. And other people. And their leaders. They say that's who's to blame. Their leaders are ruining everything. I heard them say today that Florida has just gone underwater. So we can't go there. Not that I've been there. I don't even know where Florida is."

"Too many cars," the alien says, "too much carbon, too much crap in the atmosphere, rising temperatures, melting ice caps. Now they get Florida underwater."

"Don't go to Florida," the lab says. "That's some free advice. Me to you."

At that moment, a voice far away, apparently from the house over the dunes, calls out to the dog.

"Bosco. Here, Bosco?"

"Bosco?" the alien says.

"That's my name. You sure you don't want me to come with you? You look really nice. Do you have a name?"

"Just go. It's too late now. Go to your masters, or whatever you call them."

"Okay. Bye." And the lab trots over to the alien, pees on one of his legs, then runs off at a brisk trot.

"We had such high hopes for the dogs," the alien mumbles to himself. He shakes the leg that got peed on. It jingles. "Well, soon they'll be gone too. Everybody will be gone. I'll come back in 50 years. Then we can land here and set up something again."

The alien raises a finger on one of his hands and points to the sky.

"Grxozzzylwnz Wnbqqrps" he says.

Suddenly, he starts to shimmer, then shimmer some more, and then poof, he's gone.

The voice again wafts over the dunes.

"Bosco? Good dog. What a good dog. Oh, Bosco. Want a bone? No? You always want a bone. Change your mind? Okay, maybe later. What?"