I have the right to be remembered well. We are alone, absolutely alone, on this chance planet, and, amid all the forms of life that surround us, not one, except the dog, has made an alliance with us. He will not know it is there until after I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him to inscribe it as a memorial to me. I have little in the way of material things to leave.
Dogs are wiser than men.
They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their days hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep the objects they have, and to obtain objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my loyalty. These I leave to all those who have loved me, especially to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me the most.