081413 #worm The dog is transformed, too. You've seen him if you've traveled down a country road at dusk. You've heard his plaintive howl, a farm or two away. He became the picture of Npydyuan: ancient, noble, by default pathetic--the old dog sitting on the dilapidated porch in the shadow of civilization's inevitable decline. He remains brave and kind. He howls against approaching pickup trucks, strange-smelling men, rabid industrialization, nuclear warheads, pollution, cancer, and jealous boyfriends' petty spite. He will protect the willow-haired girl until time and he break down, and even after.