[ WP ] In the canine world , humans are celestial beings who live for more than 500 years at a time . The caretaker of you and the past seven generations of your family will die soon .

I feel hapy. I feel sad. 
 
 Happy: Master *is*. Master looks at me. Happy! 
 
 Sad: Master smells of death. Master smells like father smelled before Master took him to ( *fear* ) vet. Sad. Master, do n't go to ( *fear* ) vet! Sad. 
 
 Master looks at me. Happy! Master is here, so I am happy. 
 
 Other Master comes, bringing Tiny Mistress! I love Tiny Mistress. She smells fresh. I love Other Master, but Tiny Mistress is my favorite. And Master is my favorite too. I am happy. 
 
 Other Master is sad. Master is speaking to Other Master, and Other Master is sad. I do not think Master is mad at Other Master, but Other Master is not happy. Perhaps he has not been good? 
 
 Tiny Mistress is biting my ear. Her teeth are small and blunt, she could n't tear my ear. I feel sad for her. If she did n't have me to protect her who knows what would happen to her. The Other knows this too. The Other is a good hunter, despite being small. The Other keeps bringing Tiny Mistress things to eat, but Other Master keeps throwing the food out, telling the Other it's bad. 
 
 The Other does n't care. It sleeps in the sun all day, then hunts something for Tiny Mistress to eat, and leaves the body at the door. I eat everything, Tiny Mistress finds food in Big White Cold Inside. 
 
 ALERT! Master is crying! OHNOOHNOOHNO! What happened?! I look around, assessing the danger. There is no danger? Why is Master sad then? I get close, smelling him. He is in no danger. I lick his face, and then he stops crying. I *am* a good boy. 
 
... But he still feels sad. This is not good. I look at Other Master. He is also sad, but he is n't crying. Good. He knows I'm a good boy. 
 
 Tiny Mistress is now chewing on my tail, but Other Master grabs her away. I love Tiny Mistress, she can try gnawing on my tail whenever she likes to. 
 
 I think Other Master is going to take Master to ( *fear* ) vet. But Master has been a good boy. Master has *always* been a good boy. Father told me so, and father's mother told me so, and father's mother's mother told *her* so. Master has always been good, even when Other Master was Tiny Master and was not being a good boy. 
 
 I think Other Master will be Master. 
 
 Already my pups call Master *Old* Master, and they call Other Master just Master. Perhaps their pups will know Other Master only as Master. The thought is a heavy one, and I whine. 
 
 Master rubs my head and scratches me behind the ears. I am happy. Master thinks I'm a good boy! This is perfect. I am happy! 
 
 Tiny Mistress hugs me. Now *this* is perfect! I could n't be -- WHAT WAS THAT? Oh. It's the Other. It knows about Master, and probably cares, in its own way. Probably. The Other loves Master, and it loves me, but what the Other loves more than anything is the Other. The Other is *not* a good boy. 
 
 But I am. 
 
 I look at Master, and reassure him that he's safe with me, that I wo n't allow Other Master to take him to ( *fear* ) vet. I will not. 
 
 I am a good boy.
