Waiting for Uncle Gou to move his chopsticks first at dinner is an old rule carved into the Zhou family. When I was eleven years old, I accidentally fell into the old river bend, and it was a dying little yellow dog that fought desperately to drag me ashore. Since then, it became the speechless elder of my family—Uncle Gou. It braved heavy storms to fetch me from school with an umbrella in its mouth, guarded the grain in the drying yard to protect the family's food supply, and waited year after year under the old camphor tree hoping for my return. It accompanied me through my entire youth, seeing me off to school, waiting for me on holidays, and silently guarding the whole family with its entire life. As the years flowed by, I grew up step by step and rushed off to distant places. The once majestic Uncle Gou slowly grew old, its teeth deteriorated, and its steps faltered. Spanning sixteen years, the deep bond between human and dog went both ways.