I love my master, he is the light as I wake, the stars as I dream. He gives me praise when I obey, he teaches when I misstep.

He is firm, and he is warmth.

I am his favorite, noble and loyal, strong and healthy. I was the smallest of pups, now with his love, I surpass my siblings.

I sit by his side, as he pats my head. His touch gentle, i wag my tail.

His throne is tall, wooden and dark.

My siblings lounge around, snoring, but I remain watchful. The fire place cracks and I eye the embers.

Many men come to my master, they bring him shiny pieces, paper and things that make my nose itch.

But sometimes, only rarely, does a man come in. He’ll plead, on his knees smelling of waste and straw. My master laughs and snaps his fingers, and we tear him apart.

The dusk settles into my master’s hall as one more man walks in. But lo, he is no man but a boy, small and thin. My tail beats upon the floor at the sight of him, the little boy, whom had shared a crumb of his bread with me days prior.

He speaks to my master, his voice small. I wonder if he speaks about me, on how we met.

My master laughs, nah, not jolly, but grim and frightening.

My master snaps his fingers.

But he is good, kind to me. I don’t move like my siblings, they launch upon the boy. Blood fills the air. My master yells at me, I cower. He’s sharp and mad, he bristles. I love my master but he had never shared food with me.

My master screams as I bite into his flesh.

His blood is bitter, rancid. I rip out a chunk and spit it out. He gurgles out, slumping in his tall chair. I know his other beasts will turn on me, my brothers, my sisters. I turn to them as they surround me, maws drenched in the boy’s blood.

I bite, I claw, I tear, I rip, I bleed.

I stand on three legs, over them all. I pant, my head and tail droops.

But the little boy pats my head, he smiles brightly, a halo of light around his features.

I wag my tail.