When a thousand years has past and the archaeologists — or whatever they are called in that long distant future earth — stumble on the tel that was our home, what will they find?
More remnants of dogs than people. Dog toys, dishes, food. Mountains of dog hair.
When they dig up our stuff, it will be a strange mix. Ancient and modern. Chinese and Asian pottery and artifacts. Toys from an earlier time and pottery from earlier millennium.
Technology. Digital imaging equipment, film cameras and computers in all shapes and sizes. Television and oil-burning lamps. A woodstove. Electric lights and oak floors.
Fireplaces and oil heating systems.
Carved wooden cabinets. Sofas, rocking chairs, hand-hooked rugs. Pillows and blankets. Shoes. Boots. Pots and pans.
Glass and plastic bottles. Copper kettles that whistle, and microwave ovens. Cast iron door stops.
Musical instruments. Lutes. organs. A piano. Wood flutes, DVDs, vinyl records. Thousands of bound paper books. Bricks, stones, cement, steel and wood beams.
No flying cars. Not one.
Millions and millions of aluminum cans.
And they will have no idea what it means. None whatsoever.