On the street where I grew up, there was a yard with two dogs. They were always kept in the yard, free, but whenever someone passed by the fence, the dogs seemed to go crazy. They were stray dogs of incredible malice. When they jumped over the fence, because it happened sometimes, we all rushed to our backyards. From little kids to big adults we all avoided those dogs.
One day, I was in seventh grade, they came out when I was passing by and they bit me, each by one leg. Since then I have been reserved around dogs.
This behavior of continuous attack, of malice (I realized late that maybe those dogs had suffered because of people), we also find it in humans. It is manifested by the words they use, by gestures, the tone of voice, by the arrows in their eyes, by the constantly acid comments. Of course, we can all have moments of aggression, of incompatibility with the world, periods when, because we were hurt, we can be passively aggressive or directly aggressive. We all understand such situations. But when the gratuitous wickedness manifests itself continuously, when we remove our fangs or claws ‘by default’, then let us not be surprised that it becomes empty around.
My neighbors’ dogs were always ruffled, ugly, skinny, they looked suffering as if what was inside could be seen on the surface.
Of course, there are also beautiful, polite dogs that only attack when they need to defend themselves or when the house where they live is in danger; It is a pleasure to be around them.
It’s the same with people. But people can choose their attitude.