Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do no break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between blows, your patients and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do. Speak to me often, for your voice as the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps fall upon my ear.

When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory that the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you though ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my God and I am your worshiper. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should no reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell when I suffer from thirst, Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do you bidding, to walk by your side, and to stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger. And, beloved master, should the great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in you arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest... and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever in your hand.
- by Beth Norman Harris