My noble male Faster did lift his head and make Roo this even in honor of the
passing of this noble hound. A long and mournful Roo did he make, replete of
the fullness of their lives, sadness of their passing and peace of their
surcease from the mortal coil which we all tread. These which constitute the
life and passing of each noble hound.
And yet, as if in a New Orleans return from the graveyard after a jazz
funeral, he did then demand the throwing of his favoured stuffie... This he did
then pursue and capture with glee, with bright eyes and of eager will, shaking
with his long neck, well muscled and sleek. To his master did he bring his
honored captured, subdued prey for recourse and re-capture. Thus did he honour
the passing of such a noble hound. He did honour them for their service to the
dream and for their gladdening of heart to those who stood by and did watch.
His tribute then fulfilled, and he being full of such, did process to his
rectangular enclosure. There did he then become recumbant with his honored prey
and luxurious cushions; and then did he sleep.
Mark the Goatspotter
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