Forge saw the world through shades of grey, white, black, and dark blues. That was the way it was for a canine. He did not know what color was. He only knew the vivid sensual colors in an aura. It was philosophically impossible for a German shepherd like himself to break instinct, and see his world through a new shade. The elderly canid slumped on the grimly grey grass, its sharp whisical-like blades felt by his own blade-like shag. His ears would swivel up, down, right, left, and all the angles as he pinpointed each sound. The sound was like a song that only a dog could understand. It never ended, thus it was never-ending as long as life existed. Forge would not know what silence was until the day his breath would falter, until the day his heart would stumble slowly down the slope of sinking into an eternal existence, and then up to the heavens where his creator would be. Forge whined softly, missing his dear masters. They had not yet returned from “work”. He did not understand what that place was nor understood the word, but knew by instinct that it was a place important to them. Lifting his head off the ground, he heard a sharp metallic cry from the blue jays above. Forge pricked his ears as he watched the two young blue jays fight over a single piece of food ferociously, and couldn’t help but stifle a small bark that came out coarse. Each day felt like time was slowing down for him. He knew that something was coming very soon, and couldn’t help but do nothing and ponder on the feeling. It was a new sensation he had never known- it felt odd in all its ways, but felt even in most of its ways. What wonder was thou found in the holiness of spirituality? Only one whose sense of old could tell the difference between a kindled aura and that of an awakened personality, tainted with the tediousness of a growing mind.

Yet Forge had no longer a growing mind, for he was growing an elderly brain. He did not act on instinct like a young mind- he acted within spirituality. It was something he had little knowledge of, yet knew it so well by heart.

Deciding it was better to do something than ponder and tinker on life memories, Forge struggled to get up. After a few moments of using his slackening muscles to get up, he yelped softly as what felt like a bullet shot through his back. He parted his jaws a bit, tongue lolling to the side. This pain that came when he tried moving lately, was woeful. It was a reminder of his past, a remorseful tremor that would remind him that all good things would come to an end soon. His tail, once shiny and kept tidy, now looked like a frail shag of fur. No matter how hard his masters tried to keep him from looking so dainty, old age could not stop the white growing upon his muzzle and maw.

As another twinge of pain danced through his limbs and spine, memories came to him.

Shouts.

Roaring thunder noises from those long, black, wicked sticks that shot those stones that could kill.

Then the cheering- for him.

Forge had served as a dog in the army long ago when he was a mere young German shepherd and had poetically saved his squadron from impending death.

The scars however, were just a reminder of who he was before- and how far he had come.

As the sun sank below the wispy walls of clouds, below the mountains, and wherever it would rest, so did forge. Instead of deciding to walk around his backyard, the world he knew now, he sank softly, so gracefully, down onto the grass blades again. He felt an urge to rest his dreary eyes. Not bothering to get up and greet his masters whom he had scented from what could have been a mile away a few minutes ago, he lay there, eyes drifting as the sun did.

The door on the porch gave out a groaning CLICK! And footsteps sounded as loud thuds. He heard their voices soothe him quietly, that beloved sound he had heard for countless years. But now, it has become an echo slowly. He wagged his tail slowly, softly, matching the same algorithm of the earth's own heartbeat. Or was that his? Forge could not tell. He sensed their hands stroking his silky fur. And as he blinked for the final moment of the waking night, he saw a melancholy that was not sound, but color.

He felt young again. Forge did not understand where all this newfound energy was coming from- but as he was dazed in this craving of colors, he saw the world in a million shades that were not black, grey, nor white. These colors were vivid, nameless to a dog like him. The German shepherd yelped and barked as ghostly silver, sparkly, butterflies danced in the air beside his face. He loved this place, wherever he was. As he continued to trot around with a joyful tongue lolling to the side, he saw dazzling trees that were a million shades of greenery. This land was painted in starlight, painted in colors that only a dream could possess! Forge placed a paw in the blue hues of water, and in an instant dark aquas and white-blues made his legs look as if he were a feathered canine. He happily howled, running around the vast world that was alive in all the colors of life, until he realized something. Forge paused for a moment, thinking it was a dream. But as his ears pricked up, he knew it was no dream. The German shepherd, now young again, turned his head around to see a wonderful sight. He knew he was home. He knew that this, was where he would forever run, leap, sway in and out of stars. And as he felt those familiar hands that he had known a lifetime ago, before he was born, he knew he was with his forever friend.