Fifteen Dogs

These males fight for any reason.

the young would choose an exciting life; the old a happy death.

there was at least one thing he loved, one thing that would be with him always: his pack’s language.

the others needed him, weak and lowly though he was, to maintain their echelon. This thought, which he shared with no one, instilled in him a sense of his own power. He, Benjy, was in his way as necessary as the leader, for if there is a top there must necessarily be a bottom.

Prince had gone beyond the canine. No true dog could have uttered such tripe. Prince was not worthy of being one of them.

They were, in effect, dogs imitating dogs.

Hope was a dimension of the mortal,

their new (or different) intelligence was at the service of what they understood to be their essence: the canine. They were worthy of the fear ‘normal’ dogs showed them.

It was as if words persisted when there were no humans around to hear them.