Imagine a hound, the biggest one you can. Bigger than even a Great Dane or a mastiff! This hound is one-of-a-kind, with strong legs and a nose like a bloodhound. It stands watch over a large farm, and it’s the best guard dog in the world, for its strength comes from the farmer, who raised it up from the smallest of pups to be strong and powerful.
Now imagine a rat. A sniveling, fat, greedy rat. Its teeth are dull, and its fur is matted. It spends time robbing nests and hoarding more food than it can possibly eat, all while spreading disease and fear. It steals even what it doesn’t need, just for the pleasure of it. The rat has no fear of the farmer, and is always seeking ways to rebel against him, and to elevate itself.
The great hound has a single pup, who travels with her during the day as they forage for food. At night, the mother hound places her pup in a little pen, and lays herself down at the entrance. Nothing can get past her, even while she sleeps, for she has the keenest sense of smell and sound.
Every day, as the hound pup roams the farm with her mother, the rat watches from the shadows. The greedy rodent has enough food to last him ten lifetimes, but he wants more; he wants that little pup. But he can’t ever have it as long as the mother is on guard. He knows this, and it angers him, and he tries every imaginable way of tricking the hound, but she is too clever for him, for she has been trained by the farmer.
After many months, the hound pup grows up. She is just as large and strong as her mother, and soon has a pup of her own. The rat hopes to claim this one as well, and at first, uses the same tricks as before, with the same results. But then, he notices something.
Unlike her mother, this hound, though just as strong and clever, is not as vigilant in protecting her pup. She never chases the rat, but only growls at him; never blocks up his den, but only bites at him carelessly with her jaws. The rat realizes with glee that the hound has grown lazy.
But even with this knowledge, the rat cannot hope to overcome his enemy with force. So instead, he ceases all his tricks for a long time, and leaves the hound and her pup alone. The hound grows even more lazy, ceasing to practice many of the good habits her mother used to do, and soon forgetting them altogether. She tells herself the rat has left because she was too strong, but in reality, she has grown weak.
One evening some weeks later, the hound is sleeping at the entrance to her cub’s pen. Suddenly, from the shadows creeps the rat. He grips in his mouth a single needle, which he stole from a faraway village. Knowing he will have but a few seconds before the dog smells him, the crafty vermin scuttles up and sticks the needle into the great mass of fur.
The hound immediately comes to her feet! She looks around just in time to see the rat disappear across the field. She could chase him…but she doesn’t. Instead, with a tremendous yawn, she returns to her rest, barely even feeling the tiny pricking in her back.
But the rat is not finished. While the hound thought he’d given up, instead he had been making dozens of trips to the distant village, each time returning with a bundle of needles in his jaws. Now, he has 10,000 of them hidden away in his den, and intends to use every last one.
So every night, the great hound lays down in front of her pup’s pen, and every night, the rat sneaks up and sticks her with one of the needles. Then, he flees before she can catch him. The hound can easily put an end to it at any time by chasing after the rat, but even after having twenty or thirty needles in her, feels it easier to suffer the tiny pricks and pokes than change her well-accustomed habits.
On it goes, and the rat grows a little braver each time. He stops running away so swiftly, and even begins to use two needles instead of one. The hound sometimes wakes up and growls at him a little, causing him to back off, but it is never more than that, and he soon returns all the bolder.
The hound soon finds herself growing tired. All the tiny, little pins in her are taking a toll, and she cannot fulfill the tasks the farmer assigns her as well as she should. She has less energy to hunt and fight, and other enemies besides the rat take notice. Foxes, wolves, and other predators begin to sneak onto the farm, stealing food and causing trouble.
One night, a deadly snake slips right past the hound and attacks her pup. She is able to drive the serpent away, but finds herself severely weakened. This is a wake-up call for the hound, but by now, the rat has pierced her with almost all the needles. Furthermore, the other predators are actively trying to get at her pup, especially the deadly snake.
It doesn’t take long for the hound to realize that she can no longer protect herself, much less her pup. The only one who can save them now from the myriad of enemies that surround them is the farmer. The hound must therefore put aside her pride, renew the good habits of her mother, and seek out the help of her master before she is overwhelmed by her many foes.
This story is, of course, an allegory.
The first hound is America’s past, when our culture and government – sustained on a foundation of Judeo-Christianity – made us the strongest nation on Earth.
The second hound is America now, whose apathy, pride, and godlessness has brought us and our children to the brink of destruction.
The rat is the Devil, who is always watching from the shadows for an opportunity to strike, and the needles are the thousands of little ways he chips away at our freedom if we’re not looking.
The farmer is GOD, the only one who can save us, for it is from Him that we derive our strength and freedom.
Unless we repent of our passivity and, with the Lord’s help, fight with all our strength against the enemies that surround us, we will be destroyed, and our children with us. Fortunately, the hound still has a few teeth left, the sharpest of which is the one our Founding Fathers gave us: Article V.
Fight back against the rat with Convention of States!
