Two weeks after my arrival Fox died just after sunset   I was stretched out on the bed when he approached   And tried painfully to jump up he wagged his tail nervously   Since the beginning he hadn't touched his bowl once   He had lost a lot of weight      I helped him to settle on my lap   For a few seconds he looked at me   With a curious mixture of exhaustion and apology   Then, calmed, he closed his eyes   Two minutes later he gave out his last breath      I buried him beside the residence   At the western extremity of the land   Surrounded by the protective fence   Next to his predecessors      During the night a rapid transport   From the Central City dropped off an identical dog   They knew the codes and how to work the barrier   I didn't have to get up to greet them      A small white and ginger mongrel   Came toward me wagging its tail   I gestured to him   He jumped on the bed and stretched out beside me      Love is simple to define   But it seldom happens in the series of beings   Through these dogs we pay homage to love   And to its possibility      What is a dog but a machine for loving   You introduce him to a human being giving him the mission to love   And however ugly, perverse, deformed or stupid this human being might be   The dog loves him, the dog loves him