Cave Man Time Machine

   All of us would agree either by a timid raise of the hand or a consensual nod of the head that a time machine is a pretty swell idea.  I'm not just talking about something that would allow you to undo the naughty text that you mistakenly sent to your boss last night after a few too many toddies- no, there's a valuable lesson in that faux pas which hopefully hits home. I'm talking back, way, way back to the cave man days.  First off, I am dying to ask them if they are as embarrassed as I guess they might be by that continuously replayed intro to 2001: A Space Odyssey. You know the one where a group of grunting, squatting, not quite used to opposable thumb handling of a blunt object folks are hopping around the obelisk tossing a bone at it. Who want's to be seen the world over acting the fool in front of a shiny black rectangle which may or may not be sinister, depending on the soundtrack and the lighting. Though I suppose when visiting a culture of the past it would be more polite to ignore the obelisk fandango and make nice talk regarding the fancy artwork on the walls.

    My true reason for taking a trip to yonder years is a burning, nay let's say pungent, question regarding the domestication of animals. Specifically- dogs. What I want to know is --who specifically had the keen idea to bring a stinky little monster of a black pug into their spiffy New York apartment and allow it to wreck havoc upon the gleaming hardwood floors, various leather accoutrements and standard Ikea couch. Yes! I did, it was my idea I admit that, but it had to have started somewhere. I'm no genius and I certainly would not have come across some growling snapping animal and thought- wouldn't that look good on my bed? No, I did not come up with this idea. The first jaw bone of a dog was found in a cave 20,000 years ago. Maybe back then dogs did not stand on the edge of the pee pad to better direct the flow into the grout of the kitchen floor, maybe back then the communication between master and beast was clear as bell. Maybe enunciation has done us in in this instance.

   Perhaps if I grunted and threw a bone at my sinister little obelisk he would see the light of day on this whole housetraining thing.   Or maybe I should leave the origins question alone and simply take the time machine back to the moment before I brought Mr. Sparky home. Would I walk up to myself and say, "Step away from the dog. This will come to no good."? The answer is regrettably no. Even though I have actually seen him running with scissors, the stinky little bugger must be loaded into the cab. Domestication be hanged.