The old man lived alone on the mountain. It was high, high atop the majestic triangle rising into sky blue surrounded by puffy white cloud. Morning would come and the pure translucent light of sun would shine brightly upon his peak. He was happy up there and content with all that is.

He had the infinite many creatures to commune with, great and small, as the days were long and night only a dream. The creatures were beauty. They flew, they crawled, walked on two legs and four legs, they swam, they jumped, they had all ways to move about the mountain. And the sounds they would make were music to the old man. Pure music to his ears.

This man would move among the many forms of life on the mountain and was at one with them all. He loved each one and knew them by name. He had personally named each and remembered each of those names, as his memory was as infinite as the creatures were varied. And the creatures loved him back. None would hurt him, none would bite him, none certainly would try to eat him as they sometimes behaved among themselves. His most favorite of the creatures were the ones that had learned to live in harmony on the mountain. Not eating each other, but eating from the many flowers, roots and fruits, berries, veggies and trees, mushrooms and honey that existed in abundance. It was a mountain rich of life.

Now the man wanted for no-thing. He had every-thing for which any man might want. He was truly a healthy, happy, and wise man, one with all the things that existed upon the mountain. Then one day a new thought came into his mind. He knew to pay attention to the thing in his mind because his mind gave rise to matter and what mattered was what was in his mind. He generally maintained an open mind. Free from thought for he thought of thought as bugs of the mountain.

What had entered his mind was a curious thought. The thought was what would it be like to see himself, for he had no mirror from which to view. This thought visited for a moment and then disappeared. No sooner had it disappeared, as at his feet, suddenly appeared, a new creation. A small and fluffy, golden-red ball of life with four legs, a tail that moved like wind, and a smile from ear to ear as large as its head.
The man became overcome with joy and fell to his knees to embrace this new life. It was truly a magnificent creation. He experienced immediate love and this love was quickly returned by a giant lick of the face. The man so pleasured by the face lick then returned the favor by licking the face of the little golden ball of fur. The wind moved as the tail went crazy with back and forth, round and round motion.

The man and the golden fur thing existed in pure oneness. They would walk the many trails as one, sometimes the man going ahead, sometimes the fur thing. The man would joy in watching the fur thing be silly. Chasing the other creatures, chasing its own tail, chasing the man, running up and down the mountain so happy to be. So happy to be here now on the mountain. Pure fun.

Time had no meaning for the old man, the mountain, and the fluffy ball of smiling joy. But the illusion of time did pass, and the old man grew yet older, and the golden new life grew bigger. As the sun would set the old man would porch sit in his rocking chair, looking down over the mountain, experiencing his companion resting obediently at his feet, by his side. Then, on this one night, just as the moon began its glow, before slipping through the veil of slumber, the man became conscious that he had no name for this creature. This creature that he loved so much, more than himself. As the word of name came to old man thought, dream began to arise. The word formed in the dreaming mind as DOGOD. The creature too slipped through the veil and dreamt of escorting his Master into the shining pasture.  

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