The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man or woman can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts them, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is their dog.

A persons dog stands by them in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. They will sleep on the cold ground where the wintery winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only they may be near their master's side. They will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, they will lick the sores and wounds that come from an encounter with the roughness of the world. They guard the sleep of their pauper master as if they were royalty.

When all other friends desert, they remain. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, they are as constant in their love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. If misfortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying them to guard against danger, to fight against their enemies.

And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace and their body is laid away in a cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the grave side will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true, even in death.

Author unknown