The Moon was like a mirror to the little green dog, who knew no better as he was but a foolish dog, though we neither told him that nor the true identity of the moon with the hopes he would develop naturally as one could given the circumstances. The whole thing went fairly far, further than we had hoped even, to the point where we quickly rented spare land from the local farmers to accommodate the rapidly growing green pet. Not that we let him outside, but we needed space for the crowds. As long as we gave him a room with a window, every night he would sit by it. The people would come and stare at the green dog and he at himself. Of course there were the nights when the moon would hide from all of us and on these foresaken occasions, the green puddle would mope by his dresser and stare at the floor, counting wood panels. We knew it wouldn't last, but still it was unsettling.