Dogs and consciousness

Dogs, I think, are repositories of consciousness.

I believe that our sense of self-awareness, of being alive and knowing that, is the one magic thing we can point to about being human. It's our consciousness, and more specifically our self-consciousness, that makes us in some way sacred in terms of the cosmos. Whether or not we're alone in that regard, or part of a club of "intelligent" creatures that may or not be all that exclusive (and we may never find out), it's hard to say.

And dogs, I think, function as repositories of consciousness that's being stored and carried on through generations for some higher purpose later on. Right now, it's certainly underutilized: they scratch themselves, they chase things, they goof off. (So so a lot of people, too.) Perhaps all this reserve consciousness is being held back until it's needed for some unimaginable future purpose. Perhaps dogs are kept as man's best friend because we are somehow programmed to keep them close as a back-up reserve of consciousness for some higher purposes to come. Sort of like spare batteries.

I will someday write a piece about stray dogs and time travel that will employ this concept. In the meantime, I have to go feed the spare batteries.