The great dog's life had been as beautiful as himself. And now,
in the late twilight of his years, Time's hand rested on him as
lovingly as did the Mistress's. He had few of the distressing
features of age.
True; his hearing was duller than of yore. The magnificent body's
lines were blurred with flesh. The classic muzzle was snow white;
as were the lashes and eyebrows. And the once mighty muscles were
stiff and unwieldy. Increasing feebleness crept over him, making
exercise a burden and any sudden motion a pain. The once
trumpeting bark was a hollow echo of itself.
But the deep-set dark eyes, with a soul looking out of them, were
as clear as ever. The uncannily wise brain had lost not an atom
of its power. The glorious mahogany-and-snow coat was still
abundant. The fearlessly gay spirit and loyal heart were undimmed
by age.
Laddie resented angrily his new limitations. From time to time he
would forget them; and would set off at a run in the wake of
Bruce and Wolf, when the sound of a stranger's approach made them
gallop up the driveway to investigate.
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