Even if he had no other choice, he couldn't have laid down more than his life for me. It was all he owned, a short and happy dog's life; a thousand stimulating scents, the sun's warmth on his fur, cold spring water on his tongue, breathless hunts for deer, sleep in the warm stove door when the winter wind blew around the hut, a caressing human hand and a beloved, wonderful human voice.
— Sep 11, 2024 11:05PM
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