Slaughterhouse-Five

by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.

The dog, who had sounded so ferocious in the winter distances, was a female German shepherd. She was shivering. Her tail was between her legs. She had been borrowed that morning from a farmer. She had never been to war before. She had no idea what game was being played. Her name was Princess.