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The following information is from a diary penned by one David Williams, a former Kings’ College professor in zoology who started at the institution in 1934 and retired in 1981. Since his passing in 1983, the diary has gone through many various channels. It has been copied, posted to internet forums, covered up, edited, and as of now has been finally re-released in a fully unedited fashion.

“‘To that Providence, my sons, I hereby commend you, and I counsel you by way of caution to forbear from crossing the moor in those dark hours when the powers of evil are exalted. ‘”

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; The Hound of the Baskervilles

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23rd of September, 1934 – “Man’s Best Friend”. This peculiar phrase has been entangled in my subconscious for endless weeks. Just the start of my job as a professor at King’s College, and now such a simple (yet intriguing) question has left me completely out of focus! The few numbers of lectures that I have done in the past week have been an unintelligible blur as I try to come to terms with the understanding of canid behavior. Why do these animals submit to us? Why do we entice them, excite them upon our returning home from work? Why does a terrier or a spaniel so willingly risk its own life for the continuance of its owner’s? To put it in more simple terms, what establishes the bond between man and beast?

16th of December, 1934 - As I write this, my beagle Alfred rests comfortably upon my lap, having wore himself down from constantly sprinting to catch a stick for what seemed like more than three hours, but was rather a mere thirty-one human minutes. As I stroke my hand along his neck, I can still recollect the memory of him clamping down on Richard Brown’s leg, and all because old Dick tried to snatch my spectacles away from me and strike me about the head. Just a lad I was at that time, and oh, how proud I was of the small pup! Now here I am, pushing thirty-one years of age, asking why the now aged Alfred didn’t just flee the playground the moment that brute had pushed me off the swing set! Any right-minded human would consider themselves a slave whence put into Alfred’s position of living. That is because a man chooses, whilst a slave is one to obey.

Being that this is the case, what makes my canine companion so different from a willing slave? For example, I could strike him about the head at this very moment, and his affection would hold him from even a raise of his paw. Rather than immediately bite down at the striking hand, he’d most probably guilt himself into seeing the abuse as his own wrongdoing!

He is but a child without a deserving parent…a lamb to the slaughter.

17th of January, 1935– What seems like a month later since I last wrote, and still am I but sparsely closer to the cracking of such a great natural mystery! Being raised a man of Christian value, faith would be one to satisfy my desire for answers with the simple conclusion that it is all part of “God’s Great Design”. Though I tell you this: even the teachings of the Lord himself could not explain how a family of such vicious and primal ancestry could mingle so well with one of complete civility and moral.

I decided to search for better hypotheses in my good friend, Prof. Jack Godeman. The man was one of an obsession much greater than my own current one, that of botany. I dare say that he bloody lives for the subject, constantly monitoring the size and shape of the marigolds in his laboratory, as well as the willows that span the length of the college’s outer pavements. Yes, as you could obviously tell, this man may appear to be that of no knowledge on the subjects that I investigate. In past tidings, though, I must say that the professor has made no error in confirming the fact that he is of a prodigious nature on Darwinism. When old Jack is not rambling on in both class and conversation about the rate of height gain in his old trees and flowers, he is deep into the discussion of the concepts of common ancestry and natural selection, both theories that of which I often refuse to believe in.

But, being that I am of no patience with the writings of the Bible to intervene in the settling of my current predicament, I am afraid that this man’s knowledge must do________________

Eight o’clock in the evening it now is, and I must say that my good friend, Jack may truly be the nutter I thought he was. The professor gave interesting conversation, to say the least, upon hearing of what knowledge it is that I seek. To put the obvious down first, he of course believed that the answers were within the study of ancestral history itself. However, he then went on by saying that the canines’ desire to protect and be nourished by humans was not due to an evolutionary trait, but rather a mutual relationship built upon by a shared belief. In other words, the professor has led me to believe that dog and human are, in fact, of the same moral authority!

“Yes, the intelligence is quite different”, he explained, “but our rules, our laws, our ten commandments, if you will, are one in the same! They love us as if we were their species, because both creatures have the ability to choose their level of obedience to such rules. The morality is the same, David, and therefore the brains are as well! That is your answer!”

At the first moment hearing this, I thought him almost mad! He sounded as though possessed by the spirit of some schizophrenic madman of ages long dead! My assumption was maybe the financial slump and its great burden on all, myself included, had truly broken this man for sure. Things got gravely worse, however, as he then went on by discussing even more maddening hypotheses to himself. I would refrain from discussing them in full for the sake of my own sanity, but in short, he did seem to have some sort of premonition at that very moment. He turned from me and began to walk the perimeter of the lab, examining each sunflower that towered from the many pots and troughs. Eventually though, after what felt like an eternity, he stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at me. Then, in so swift a motion, he rushed up to me and began hurrying me out of the lab. The abruptness of the professor’s actions was so great, that I found myself startled by it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” was the last thing he had spoken before slamming the door in my face.

20TH OF JANUARY, 1935 – End of yet another week of lectures, and now I am of great concern for my fellow colleague. Ever since this past Wednesday, he has been acting even crazier than usual. The only time I ever saw Jack in his lab the past two days, I could see him forcefully yanking his sunflowers from their roots, as if he was yanking crops for his evening supper. Other than the one occurrence, I have neither seen nor heard just about anything from the professor since that fateful discussion. The things that he had told me, I_____________

24th of January, 1935 – I have received a letter from Jack! It was going on a week and one half since last happening upon him when Alfred had dropped this bit of parcel at my feet. The letter had appeared rather rushed, but comprehensible:

David,

Ten long years I have waited, and I must fully thank you, my friend! I have been looking for a subject of testing for all those years now, and it was your great curiosity that has now helped in my pursuits! What I, no we, have discovered may forever change the very foundations of the biological world. Enclosed here is a map to my study so that you may be there to witness my greatest achievement.

Kindest Regards,

Jack Godeman

P.S. I would recommend bringing along that pup of yours. This may concern him, too.

“What in the name of…”, I had first thought to myself. I was now questioning how recent it had been since this letter’s arrival. I only ask about such things because of one of many other mysteries surrounding the parcel itself: I had never told Jack about my owning of a pooch.   

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