But a remarkable thing happened as I sat alone in that garden, watching my husband and his friend talk quietly. The hound rose from the corner where he had cowered and walked purposefully over to where his master sat. I remember admiring the animal’s noble bearing. His long, well-kept coat gleamed black and glossy in the afternoon sun. The dog carried his head high and walked with such a solemn dignity that he seemed almost human. He reached the place where his master slouched, drawing on his hookah, and sat near the arm of the man’s chair, looking straight ahead, his head well above his master’s arm. I watched in amazement as the hound laid his head on the arm of his owner and rested there, unmoving. And I thought, what a gracious beast. He forgave this man of his anger and in a splendid act demonstrated his submission without ever losing his dignity. The owner rested his hand on the animal’s head and stroked the dog’s long, elegant hair.

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