A 3-post collection

Challenge #01424-C329: Loyalty to Immortals

Going along with humans being fae to city animals (#01413-C318), humans being the long-lived elves to dogs.

(Hi, I'm back! Sorry for the hiatus in prompts) -- RecklessPrudence

[AN: No worries]

Mother had brought them to see Grandmother, who sniffed them all in greeting before she lay in the sunshine. Her muzzle was grey and her joints were stiff.

"Soon," said Grandmother, "you will be chosen. One may be chosen to remain... here..." She dozed a little, panting at her own happy memory of being chosen.

The pups yipped and gambolled in their usual way, roughhousing to see who was best at puppy play.

"My grandmother, and her grandmother, and her grandmother all served the human. We all kept her company and did good things. We are good dogs."

Everyone present wagged at the thought.

"We are good dogs, for a good human. Some of you may not be so lucky. Some may go to households that think you are toys. Some may be abandoned. It is a sad thought, but it is no reason to be a bad dog."

Mother barked, "There are no bad dogs! Only bad humans!"

"That is what humans say," said Grandmother. "Being a good dog is a choice. You can choose to obey. You can choose to fetch. You can choose to sit and stay. And you can choose to have faith in your human. They choose us. And we must be good to them. As they are good to us. For all our lives."

Sasha remembered that for all of her life. When the human chose her to remain with Mother and Grandmother and, of course, herself. She grew and was a good dog, of course. And suffered Grandmother's death and, in time, Mother's. She became a mother and a grandmother herself. But something was changing with the unchanging human.

Their human was growing old. It seemed impossible. Her hair, like Sasha's muzzle, grew grey. Her joints, like Sasha's joints, grew stiff. And they spent many an hour sitting in the sunshine and watching the pups play.

It seemed impossible to think it, but one day... maybe not in Sasha's lifetime... one day, their human might die...

Until that day came, they would be good dogs. For all their days together.

(Muse food remaining: 11. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)

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