The best
friend a man has in this world may turn
against
him and become his enemy.
His son
or daughter that he has reared with loving
care
may prove ungrateful.
Those
who are nearest and dearest to us,
those
whom we trust with our happiness and
our good
name, may become traitors to their faith.
The money
that a man has, he may lose.
It flies
away from him, perhaps when he needs it the most.
A man's
reputation may be sacrificed in a
moment
of ill-considered action.
The people
who are prone to fall on their knees
to do
use honor when success is with us may
be the
first to throw the stone of malice when
failure
settles its cloud upon our heads.
The one
absolutely unselfish friend that a man
can have
in this selfish world,
the one
that never deserts him, and
the one
that never proves ungrateful or
treacherous,
is his dog.
A man's
dog stands by him in prosperity and
in poverty,
in health and in sickness.
He will
sleep on the cold ground, where the
wintry
winds blow, and the snow drives fiercely,
if only
he may be near his masters side.
He will
kiss the hand that has no food to offer,
he will
lick the wounds and sores that come
in encounters
with roughness of the world.
He guards
the sleep of his pauper master
as if
he were a prince.
When
all other friends desert, he remains.
When
riches take wings and reputation falls
to pieces,
he is as constant in his love as the
sun in
its journey through the heavens.
If fortune
drives the master forth an outcast in
the world,
friendless and homeless,
the faithful
dog asks no higher privilege than that
of accompanying
him to guard against danger,
to fight
against enemies; and when the last scene
of all
comes, and death takes the master in
its embrace
and his body is laid away in
the cold
ground, no matter if all other friends
pursue
their way, there by his graveside will the
noble
dog be found, his head between his paws,
his eyes
sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful
and true
even to death.