[color="#0000FF"]As will become obvious very quickly, the only things remotely relevant to the thread are the sections in quoteblocks. (The bit on the Fox-spirits is actually part of native heathen JP and KR tradition, and I think CN tradition too.)[/color]
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The Tails of the Missing Vaahanam
Hereby is narrated a certain important feature of the Emperor Julian's life that is prominent in all parallel universes but this one (this one being a great aberration) in which he was ever victorious. It has often been noted that His Highness The Earthly Male Superlative was Self-Complete and lacking in nothing. While this is true, the other observation that is equally true is that all major Heroes and most Divinities are seen accompanied by what is called in Hindoo terminology as a "vaahanam", a sacred animal that is always represented with the hero or Divinity. This is true not only of many historical heathen heroes but also of those fictional heathen heroes that strike at the heart of truth. An example for both cases that easily come to mind include the Varaaha of Taro and the Red Elk of Ashitaka.
While some have commented that something seemed "missing" about the Emperor's person by which they subconsciously allude to the absence of a vaahanam, in truth, his Exalted Imperial Perfection did possess one such animal also. Most in our world would tend to conclude that it must have been a Horse, this being a great sacred animal and one much popular for it. However, every soldier in the Roman cavalry and the Trojan one before it had one heroic steed such as this, and therefore a Horse could not distinguish the Earthly Male Superlative from all the other men. The details of the particular Animal, its species, its origins, its features, its names, its heroism, its peculiarities, its life and its passing are herewith documented, pieced together from various ancient Roman and Greek accounts and hearsay.
That Great Goddess of the Greeks and Romans alike, Unequalled in battle and who did subdue Ares himself during the war at Troy, once did give divine thought to what sort of animal would best suit the Imperial Champion, and which could accompany him loyally, serve him in good stead and for the particular purpose she had in mind for it, and be generally memorable to the adoring heathen masses. Deciding upon its species in unison with the counsel of Kronion and the other Deathless Ones, she sped off from Sacred Olympos to the Land of The Rising Sun which belonged to the exalted Nipponese Sun Goddess Amaterasu and other Sacred Kami. There, a Japanese variant like that of a husky of somewhat orange hue did live in ancient times, as it does yet linger though in sadly reduced numbers today. Its Japanese name was then unknown to the ancient Roman chroniclers, though the Olympic Goddess did privately come to know it from the Kami themselves, who introduced her to the animal. But modern heathen Classicists know to supply its name now, being more familiar today with the Karafuto-Ken (known in the west by the name Sakhalin Husky), [1] which is the ancestor of the brave ancient Akita dog breed that famously inspired the courage and perseverance of Samurai. [2]
The Graeco-Roman Goddess, having landed in the sacred land inhabited and hallowed by the Kami, sought immediate counsel in her friendly undertaking with those Deathless Ones who reside ever there. As a token of their lasting and ancient friendship, the Kami of the Heavens and the Earth brought forth a divine animal for Athena to gaze upon. She clapped and cheered upon seeing the sacred Shinto hound, and after befriending it, she put the whelp in an intricate bag she had wrought for the purpose and took it back speedily to the sacred lands that were home to the Olympic Gods and the Greeks and Romans. There she devised to introduce it in timely fashion into the life of the Great Earthly One Favoured By Olympus. Thus, akin to the Celestial Hound of Erlang Shen of the Daoists, the emperor Julian would acquire a Hound of his own. Although the Goddess acquainted the animal with the fact that its purpose in being brought here was to serve as a faithful comrade to a Kingly Man, she withheld the identity of the Human so as to allow the animal to make up its own mind in its own time.
It was some years after Julian's return to his ancestral religion, but before his rise in the Imperial ranks to Caesar, that the Goddess orchestrated a meeting between the dog and the young prince. There are several tales that purport to document where exactly the encounter took place. [3] What is consistent between the accounts is that, surprising him, it barked at him valiantly, and, perceiving both its bravery and good-natured friendliness, he took to it. Over time, he coaxed it into following him, after demonstrating to it that he was a friend to animals. The animal -- possessed of prodigious powers to discriminate between the worthless and worthy, which many humans have yet to acquire -- decided that the young prince was far more than worthwhile, having concluded that the human was complete in himself and therefore worthy of its own company, and followed him willingly. In time, as with all those in possession of a dog, the man came to more deeply admire his animal's attractive furry appearance and heroic and amiable canine qualities, and spent numerous pleasant hours in its company staring up at Helios and sacred night skies together: it would howl at the moon, at times joined by a wolvish chorus in the distance, while he contemplated his empire and love for his Gods.
While he took joy in its company, in its turn, it followed him everywhere. Fiercely loyal and of a bravery matching that of the bravest Shinto warriors before and since, it accompanied him into armed confrontations at all times. First into battle and last in the retreat, of a speed like unto that of the Divine Wind (said to have been a blessing of the Wind Kami), with a bark that reverberated throughout the Four Worlds -- these being Kronion's seat at Olympos, Poseidon's domain the Sea, Erebus where Father Dis doth reign and the Earth ruled in common by the Three Exalted Divine Brothers. Some say the impressive and widely-heard acoustics of the bark that made the world tremble was partly owing to the Glorious Athena favouring it by striking Her Spear hard against her Shield every time it was prone to emit the Canine Thunder. Others explain that it already possessed this quality from its own Shinto origins: that its beloved Kami, especially the Thunder, had blessed it with the ability to summon their voices in conjunction with its own. Others say both reasonings are of equal truth, and did combine together to make the sound all the more magnificent. Whatever be the case, the barking during battle, and the howling upon its forcibly dismounting an enemy, would send fear into the heart of foes -- who would reel mindless and supine to the auditory assault -- while speeding courage into the hearts of friends who would jump up, invigorated, to re-double their assault on the witless.
In sacred imagery of the Emperor as Warrior, his Dog would be seen alongside him donned in Divine Armour also. It was none other than the skilled God Hephaestos, labouring alongside Kami Smithies, that had factually fashioned the Samurai-like armour bearing Hellenistic motifs for the earthly canine to wear into battle. Athena had guaranteed to a very young Karafuto-Ken that it would be suitably-attired for battle if it would but serve its future master faithfully, and she had proceeded to introduce the creature to Hephaestos. Thereupon, the God had taken its measurements and created the fearsome dazzling armour, just as in days of yore He had created divine armour for the Peleides, King of the Myrmidons, as well. The details of the remarkable armour have been so accurately described, they are visible in the sculptures of the Great Heathen Hero and his Heathen Shinto Animal Friend that have profusely littered the Hellenistic world after the 4th century.
The deed Julian's animal companion is best remembered for occurred during the Persian Campaign of the Emperor, when it leapt into the air and caught the spear that would have speared the Spearman. The world over, those heathens with divine vision nodded to themselves that this was a game-changing event in the annals of their universe, whereas to the stunned Roman soldiery gathered it was an act of great skill and heroism: the Emperor would have been attacked treacherously from behind, by the latest christian plot, and things could well have ended in ways too (permanently) terrifying for them to have imagined. But the creature is said to have sensed the impending villainy as if by its mystical animal senses -- though some say Athena had brought it all the way to the Empire from Japan for this very purpose and had instructed the animal to keep watch for this very moment -- and after catching and snapping the deadly missile, it leapt on the christian Arabian assailant, dislodged him from his horse and brutally cracked his skull or snapped his neck (both accounts are given). The Roman soldiers, dumbfounded both by the speed and the vehemence with which the creature launched itself on the enemy, found their voices again and hailed its greatness, its protection of their beloved King and its contribution to their victory. The King himself, turning instantly around, felt shock at the nearness of possible death and gratitude to his furry companion, but mingled with a sense of horror: the creature's attack on the human assailant was violent and almost vengeful. It had grabbed and shaken the head of the man it overcame vigorously -- the head had been crushed in its Jaws Of Death -- and it thereafter bayed and then howled to the sky, as if marking that it had fulfilled its stated duty. (Some eyewitnesses record that an eagle passed on the auspicious side at this time.) The wolvish creature's fangs dripped blood and its facial and neck fur were covered in the same and the whole aspect of the creature seemed no longer orange or even brown, but dark like that of a raging storm with angry red eyes, as it turned for one last look around. It had then looked veritably like it was in that state which the far-off Hindoos call Raudrakaalam. The Emperor was fearful the creature may have gone fey and wild, having fallen prey to some sudden disease -- perhaps even rabies -- not having ever known it in this mood before, and his later descriptions explained that he had wondered then whether and how this was indeed the same Dog he knew, the one that would not stop absurdly wagging its tail at him in friendly familiarity. However, the creature seemed to regain its composure almost instantly after howling its completion of its bloody mission, and the dark sea of its fur regained a recognisable brown shade as it returned to the Emperor's side and fought on normally. [4] Julian himself did wash the blood from its fangs afterward -- though its divine armour had by that time gained a permanent red mark to commemorate its discharging its purpose -- and coaxed the creature back into good temper, at which point it seemed to be again the playful pup he had known. These events have been recorded by numerous biographers and close friends of the Emperor: Libanios devotes an entire chapter on the Hound's Triumph, and several composers included the event in their war ballads. Christians, of course, cursed the heaven-blessed creature for a while, but they came to nothing in the end as the Emperor's renewed efforts thereafter permanently routed their diseased religion until this and all its fatal potentialities wafted away from the world like the memory of an ill wind.
Although the creature was very faithful to its Human and his men, it had its idiosyncracies: it would not hunt. [5] This peculiarity has been mentioned by various biographers who were told the matter by the Emperor himself, as owing to how, in the animal's country of birth, the pup had befriended various animal creatures and learnt their speech. As a result, it would adamantly refuse to join any of the imperial troops in La Chasse and would stay behind, though it did not judge them upon their return. It allowed that the Emperor must needs catch the Sacred Apis Bull, though rare, to offer to Jupiter to ensure the prosperity of the Hellenistic Empire and its protection from the alarming Cretin infestation that had then still been proceeding apace. The canine's own dietary preferences included steamed cabbage and carrots and raw fruits which the Emperor had his men specially prepare for its delectation. However, the Emperor himself undertook its periodic baths, as would happen when no stream was nearby for the creature to run or paddle in and briefly submerge itself under. On the occasions of a bath, the playful creature would wrestle with the King and always made the event into a sort of game with as end goal trying to get the Emperor rained under by its energetically shaking off the water from its glorious coat, even sneaking up on Julian at the end of the bath time if it had not tasted success before. In time, the Emperor saw through the game and gave up trying to remain dry.
A remarkable trait of this Hound that seems to have passed into legend, from where its effects may perhaps have become magnified over time, is that to children, friend and the heathenising the creature appeared of easy approach: cuddly, cute and -frankly- irresistible; a beautiful vision that appeared in their dreams thereafter (as it had initially done to Prince Julian, at that early time when it had yet to make itself a permanent member of his close circle), especially whenever they were assailed by fears and despondency. After its appearance during their minds in slumber, they woke up refreshed with a sense of being protected by The Earthly Male Superlative and His Hound, even as their worries dissipated as fog in the bright Sun. Children were inspired to draw the attractive furry animal and invent further adventures concerning it, while parents did feed others of its species in fond remembrance of how these were related to the Emperor's Companion.
To the soldiers of the Emperor, it appeared as their comrade, one of their own, a loyal, trustworthy, fleet, four-footed warrior that would join them in their charges and help track down the living trapped underneath the rubble of war to recover them. It served as their mascot and its bark was their rallying call and its howl was their victory cry.
To enemies and the christianising, however, the Hound was their veritable nightmare manifest into tangible and definite form. Its face was fanged and contorted into a vision of fearsomeness for them. This dreaded memory of the Great Enemy of mono-gawdism and his Hound has passed down in space-time, to reappear unreasonably even in this world, in islam's description of the hound and all its kind as "Al-Shaytan", "the Devil". The moslems shudder in irrational fear at its distant all-pervading echo from parallel universes, and seek protection from it by appealing to their non-existent invisible entity. During the day, their fear and hatred for the Divine Shinto Animal manifests in their brutalising dogs. But the Warrior Dog of the Emperor watches all their crimes and will repay them all one day. In christianised countries of our world, the animal went down in myth as the Hound From Hell, and resurfaced in both its imposed christian aspect of villain and its heathen aspect of loyal heroic friend even in such recent works as Tolkien's Lays of Beleriand, where the Hellish Carcharoth, Morgoth's Wolf of Angband, was derived from the christian version of the Canine's lingering influence in our dimension, even as the Dog was the inspiration for Huan, the Hunting Hound of the Elves who was befriended by Luthien; both of these characters of modern myth being based on the same creature.
Whatever it may have meant to others, it was of course, ultimately, the Emperor's Own Hound. Besides serving as one of Julian's most loyal companions, alongside Sallustius and others of the Emperor's valued company, his four-footed friend that emanated from the Land of the Rising Sun was also invaluable to the Roman King of Kings in other respects: the Caesar found it was eminently pettable, and increasingly realised that stroking its head was moreover de-stressing, and he came to like to rest his own head else lean back against the seated animal when pondering difficulties or staring into oblivion. Whenever he could not see a way out of a predicament, he would bury his head in its deep, soft and luxurious fur, which, though he did not know it for a fact, possessed certain magical healing qualities that renewed hope and fortitude. He had come to recognise the divine creature as a gift from the Gods sent to guard him and his heathen empire, which of course it was. He therefore liked to throw his arms around the animal for no reason at all and whisper gentle, heart-felt words of endearment to it -- quite as all humans who have ever possessed animal friends have been prone to do; and the absurd, affectionate animal would lick him in return. When devising new strategems against christianism or writing pamphlets exposing the Great Falsehood, he would take his dear animal's counsel: it would bark approvingly whenever it agreed or was convinced on any point, which turned out to be every single time, and the Emperor graciously accepted that this input was not a fawning compliment to him but mere impartiality to his meritorious ideas. The animal never left His Imperial Male Magnificence's company: at times of worship it would stand by quietly, looking acceptably piously-inclined towards the Olympic Gods, and Julian would allow it to take part in offerings after libation (but soon learned to make sure it did not get too drunk, as liquor made its behaviour with regard to furniture -- already sparse in Julian's imperial household -- worse than that of a Vandal). Though the Emperor worked through many nights -- and it would stay up with him during his contemplations or else howl at the moon during Julian's nightly worship which became background hum to him -- there were times his Supreme Earthly Imperial Perfection would go to sleep. On such occasions he would suffer the Hound to leap onto the bedding and curl up with its head on the great and warm Imperial Heart, there falling asleep to the gentle thud-thudding. This, unfortunately, became a habit for the dog and it could not be weaned from it thereafter and was inclined to repeat the behaviour even on occasions when the Emperor would have preferred not to have the weight of another heavy blanket bearing down on him, such as during summer. The often Double, and at times as many as Nine, Tails of the Hound were found wrapped around the Emperor's arm in the mornings. Whether he had done so himself or whether the Hound had done this for/to him, is something the Emperor has not remarked on to his confidantes.
There has been conjecture that certain other of the Hound's magical abilities that have come down to us in legend are owing to its special ancestry, which is perhaps partly Sacred Fox according to Eastern heathen tradition such as Shinto, and which is mayhap somewhat Wolf according to western myth, or perhaps a combination of both. There are accounts of further strange behaviour from the creature on full-moon nights, often attributed in the west to its suspected Lupine ancestry, but which will not be dwelt on here, lest this more serious report of the verifiable and commonly-attributed features of the famous animal become diluted by imaginative tall-tales. [6]
As regards the blessed heathen creature's names and epithets, which are many and often of foreign tongue, numerous derive originally from the terms of endearment lavished upon the creature by the Emperor and his men. The primary word used as a name of address for the animal by the Emperor Himself was "Nakama", especially when he stroked its ears. It is not a Latin or Greek word, and it remains a cause of wonderment to historians as to how the Emperor should be familiar with Japanese when he was not known for it. Nowadays, people are more commonly acquainted with the fact that the exquisite word means "comrade", but the Emperor learning of this word (and apparently its meaning too) has baffled not a few. Some have said that Athena had introduced him to the creature by this name, but that does not explain how he used other Japanese words and taught his men to use the same in reference to his Hound: next to the simple descriptive of Karafuto-Ken was also to be heard "Senyuu" (comrade in arms) and "Tomo" (pal, mate, friend), "Shinseki" (kin, relative), "Shinrui" (family), all of which were imitatively used by the Roman soldiers of the well-loved Emperor in addressing the Dog, especially after it had shown its mettle during battle. The Emperor also referred to the Shinto beast affectionately as "Doushi" (kindred spirit) and "Douhai" (the Emperor's equal as his canine equivalent), and even as his "Chitsuzuki" (blood relation), though "[dear] Nakama" was his most favoured name for his four-legged friend. It is thought that this wealth of knowledge of appropriate Japanese nouns must have emanated from the Hound teaching Julian the equivalent in Japanese human speech for words the Man wished to address his Animal friend by. Although a very learned and skilled man, Julian is not generally known to have understood the speech of dogs, whereas the creature itself was famous for knowing the speech of other animals, which may have included that of men also.
Epithets in the common tongue of the Empire referred to the animal as the Emperor's Dog, the Emperor's Quadruped Comrade, the Canine Thunder (on account of its bark), Julian's Animal Friend, the Imperial Hellenistic Mascot, the Fierce Heathen, Shinto Hound, the Blessed Dog, the Kamis' Gift, Athena's Favoured One and Divine-Armour-Bearing-Fierce-Warrior-Hound. Further studies conducted by historians regarding the animal have come up with many more names that were in use, some of which are surprising. [7]
Upon the Emperor's ascendance to his ancestral Gods at Olympos, it is said that his Dog leapt for a last time onto his chest as he was laid to rest. And curled up once more, as was the animal's wont, it too fell into a final sleep. The mound raised over the Man is said to include his dear friend the Dog, as per these versions of the event. The Roman account has it residing with the once-human hero in the afterlife, and continuing its usual behaviour as on earth, though some other tales describe the animal as resting in its own lands of the heavenly Kami and returning whenever the Emperor has need for it or is glad of its company in general, including such as when heathen humans on this side of life look to the example of the Great Heathen Emperor in their need. At such moments, the Dog returns to His side -- swimming across from Japan at his call, and racing with thunderous footfalls over the Tundra or the Steppes and then the plains -- to thus be seen in vision reunited with Julian, donning once more its Divine Armour and with its loud bark echoing triumphantly.
Others, to the east, tell of the dog barking once, loudly, during the final farewell rite of its divinely-blessed human friend and to have swiftly been caught up in a whirling wind by Aeolus thereafter, who, by request of Athena and owing to her promise to the Kami on termination of the Dog's services, returned it to the land of its ancestors and its own Shinto Gods and religion: they say it passed into the realm of the Kami where, being given a hero's farewell by Shinto priests and enshrined in a native Temple, it dwells happily with them once more. This last version traces future generations of the breed back to one of these early famous examples of the heathen Shinto animal.
In any case, all huskies the world over have come to be regarded as related in some fashion to the Hound of the Imperial Heathen. And in like manner to how Elephants in far-off India are regarded as sacred and therefore become understandably conflated with their Gods Ganapati, the Son of Uma-Shiva, and Airavatam, the sacred mount of Indra, or how the Monkeys of the Hindoos are venerated as lingering members of the divine "Vanara Sena" of their God Rama, or all Hindoo cows are regarded as the true embodiments of the Hindoos' Gods -- in such manner, all Huskies have become synonymous with Julian's Shinto Hound, to the point where they have come to be seen (and see themselves) as identical or interchangeable with the original. In essence, all huskies and Karafuto-Ken in particular, can be viewed as the Emperor's Own Vaahanam. This has predictably become a matter of prodigious pride for various huskies in our own era.
Therefore, those in our universe who felt that the Emperor was missing a certain something were perceptive, though he did not lack a vaahanam in other universes. In all those, of course, he was always accompanied by Man's Best Friend. While Hindoos tend to threaten ominously that this is a Vedic reference to the Wife, the best friend of humanity in general was rather meant: the dog. And so ends the tale of a Man and His Dog -- or rather, the tale of The Hellenistic Emperor and his Shinto Hound -- as it has come down through the ages and tradition.
[1] en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sakhalin_Husky
(Note: the documentary/movie Nankyoku Monogatari by Koreyoshi Kurahara on the JP Antarctica expedition about the JP sledge dogs, had music composed by the Greek Vangelis. Album: "Antarctica".)
[2] telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/japan/3701839/Morie-Sawataishi-Saviour-of-Japans-akita-Samurai-dog.html
[3] The most familiar and generally reliable account of the fated meeting, describes the pup -- having just been released from Athena's sacred magic pouch into the dazzling light of day -- as coming upon the Flawless Man when the latter had dismounted to drink from a sacred stream. It was then that it barked at him, as if in some recognition that neither the creature nor the human could completely fathom. The Prince was caught unawares by its pleasing furry attractiveness, which apparently left an impression on his mind: gazing at it, an understandably deep love for the dear animal took root. Though his own heart was instantly pierced (and from which he never recovered) by its incomprehensible and unreachable beauty of being -- as all those who ever fell under the spell of love for animals or trees or the sky or mountains would know -- the baby animal itself beheld him without knowing what to make of him initially: it was only some time thereafter that it would learn of the young prince's pristine character.
And although, during this initial acquaintance, the creature gave chase to the imperial horse in playful fashion before it got itself lost, the young prince would for some days continue to dream about the fuzzy creature that seemed outlandish yet good-natured, and he became increasingly determined to track it down and befriend it, in order to permanently attach the creature to himself just as he had become attached to it. Neither he nor his men were successful in this from their own end, not then knowing the exact habits of the Shinto Husky variety. Unbeknownst to the Heathen Champion, it had not lost track of him, however, and was in fact following him all this while, having picked up his scent. It kept its distance and observed him from behind trees here and underneath rocks there, and noticed the Blessed Man's interactions with his soldiers and ordinary citizens. The kindness and friendly, approachable character of the man towards his subjects and his men ultimately convinced the Karafuto-Ken that this was a human worth befriending and following about. It then revealed itself once more to the Prince at last, this time in the presence of his soldiery, and allowed the young man to pat its head, though it would not suffer a noose: and as it followed him willingly immediately thereafter, he saw no need to tie it to his person.
[4] Some eye-witnesses remembered the event as the Emperor having to actively intervene to calm the creature down after its subduing the lethal enemy: Julian had to resort to throwing his cloak about the wild creature, since it could not hear his gentle voice trying to calm it down over the din that had by now resumed. With the cloak about it and it therefore unable to see much, he was able to approach it and make himself heard. It is said that at this point the Dog became tranquil and its usual self once more, and returned to his side thereafter.
[5] The Emperor's biographers quote him as instructing his men to give up trying to convince it to join them: "It's not a hunting dog."
[6] Dubious sources have fancifully described that on full-moon nights the Emperor's Karafuto-Ken would change shape so that it was suddenly the human head of a lady that was resting on the Emperor's heart. One such 'source' describes how the Emperor himself woke up on an occasion to find a beautiful dark-haired maiden where his Dog had been, with her arm wrapped around his. And, thinking it but a dream and confused by the dark mass of fragrant hair spread about his dizzy vision, the Emperor drifted back to sleep and awoke in the morning proper, to realise it was but his trusted four-footed comrade all along and dismissed the rest as imaginings. This dream he was alleged to have shared once, much later on and in passing, with some friends, from which the unlikely sources claim to trace their accounts to.
These stories were no doubt of later origin, probably confusing the alleged lupine ancestry popularly attributed to the Dog by chroniclers (huskies do look a little like wolves to populations unfamiliar with huskies, such as the Romans were) with the fact that the trusted Comrade of the Emperor became associated with the Fox-Lady of Shinto and Korean Shamanism on account of its many tails. In brief: in these eastern religions, some ladies are not women but are actually Foxes (Fox Kamis) with many tails, which are specifically considered to be magical creatures that can transform, and moreover have a tendency to transform into humans, surmised to be one of the forms natural to them. There have been many cases documented in both ancient Japan and Korea (and China) of such creatures marrying humans, and this persists in modern storytelling such as a famous Korean romantic-comedy series from the last decade. In some ancient cases reported, the marriage was a happy one, in other cases the creature was duplicitous or some other calamity befell to separate the lovers. It is unlikely, however, that the august personage of the eternally-praiseworthy Emperor had ended up with this particular kind of Dog, despite many a description and early carving of his famed canine companion treating of its multiple tails. Furthermore, the Emperor is specifically documented by his famous biographers as not noticing women -- beautiful or otherwise -- at that time, being far too busy then with matters closer (if not to heart, then) to hand, such as the disease of christianism.
It is probable that the Emperor's keen but common affection for his faithful, furry, four-footed little friend and most especially its reciprocal doting on the Emperor has further contributed to this mythmaking: Karafuto-Ken are, after all, notoriously attached to their humans (as indeed are many dogs to this day). Another influential factor may have been that no one seems to have specifically recorded the gender of the Dog, which presumably left the matter open-ended for speculation and unnecessary mythologising.
The more commonly heard variant of this myth, and which has more insistent and more ancient supporters, is that the Dog (or part Wolf) was not itself a woman, but that a fair Greek maiden was to have been caught into sharing the Karafuto-Ken's body for a time: out of desperation, newly-converted christians given to still dabbling in occult magic -- of the harmful kind that had specifically been discouraged by heathen Roman emperors and Hellenistic society -- were to have contrived a curse on the Emperor to never be married or have any progeny, by stipulating that his choice should ever be withheld from him. But taking counsel with Athena, Goddess Vesta (Hestia) herself was to have safely hidden the young maiden in Julian's Nakama temporarily, until such a time as christianism's imminent defeat, so that the creature could protect her from within itself even as it protected him from without. These accounts, otherwise similar in describing the maiden as occasionally manifesting in the Emperor's chamber on full-moon nights, date the appearance of the maiden to around the time when the Emperor was decisively defeating the Cretinous disease once and for all, around his 33rd year. The curse was broken in conventional manner when the Emperor decided to marry the heathen lady, and so the Faithful Dog could finally return to being the sole inhabitant of its form. (The Queen was to have had an abiding affection for the Dog, though shy by nature of any wild and large creature with sharp teeth, and would place its food on its platter from behind the Emperor and would gladly watch it eat heartily; and she dared to pet it only whenever it was occupied hugging the Emperor, though it would in turn try to immediately return the affection by nudging against her with its adorable head.)
Whatever the tale of the Greek maiden's origins and background and the manner of the Emperor's meeting with her, it remains a fact that in parallel universes, she married him and the Emperor's line therefore has been divinely favoured to be markedly prolific and more enduring than that of others, including more so than even that of the Genghis Khan in ours, though the Emperor managed this throughout by adhering to the Roman religious tradition concerning marriage (i.e. monogamy). And thus there are many Hellenes scattered throughout the modern all-heathen Hellenistic Republic that trace back to their far-famed Heroic heathen forebear and continue to share in his faultless qualities.
[7] Libanios for instance documents the then-popular use of "Many-tailed one", "Single-tailed one", "Colour-changing Wolf", "Divine Snow Dog", "Four-footed one Born in the Distant Realm of the Sun Goddess".
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Man, it's so easy to invent a story on the spot centred around a smattering of history, using factual events and persons to concoct something that didn't happen and to then keep developing it further. "Pseudo-history". The emperor would have disapproved.
Ugh fine, to be emphatic then:
Disclaimer -
- the above is [obviously] a work of (terribly bad) fiction - "animal fan fiction" :woohoo: - using some factual background such as of Japanese huskies and their traits, the Emperor being historical, and of course the tales of Fox-ladies being true to eastern heathen narratives (and mixed in with features of an older story of my own concerning wolves mistaken for dogs and which turn human overnight, although I reversed the genders in this case: I used to like inventing odd 'fairy tales' when I was a kid, what can I say. Plus I like wolves. Oh and the bit on the Imperial Queen being shy of large animals and putting food on the Dog's plate by standing behind the Emperor is based on my Grandmother and Grandfather and a fierce dog the latter had rescued and re-habilitated. The speaking with animals thing is also inspired by my Grandfather, though he spoke in his human tongue to various animals - including very wild and ferocious ones at their fiercest of moments - and always had a great and unreal heathen power of influence over them. An "animal-whisperer" of superhuman ability, though perhaps he wasn't quite human.) All (other) resemblance in the fictional parts to any real historical person or animal, or to any Divinity or historical event is unintended and is coincidental. And absolutely no offence was meant to persons or animals divine.
(Why do I feel I have to apologise for everything? :gah
- there is no evidence that the Emperor had a vaahanam, let alone that this was a dog or of husky breed in particular. Personally, I have long felt that the Emperor deserves a Vaahanam, since it would cement his status as a Heathen Hero, and the idea is just appealing for some reason. A Japanese Samurai Dog sounds a great choice in my opinion, but I would equally cheer for a wolf (so closely associated with both Rome and the birthplace of the Emperor in Anatolia where the Troy of his Roman ancestors was situated).
The story was inspired by my remembering how Emperor Julian himself coined and popularised the phrase "There is only one Julian" to seriously tick off the christians who were peddling the poisonous absurd nonsense of "There is only one gawd".
One imagines the Emperor must have been grinning as he came up with it, and in any case, it remains hysterically funny no matter how often I revisit the famous phrase. (Christian 'historians' are still pretty peeved about it: it exposes the utter triviality of their absurd cherished belief.) Anyway, because it seemed such a feat to be so funny that your humour still appeals (to those with a sense of humour) even ~1700 years after your passing, I thought that a Hero so all-round awesome deserved a vaahanam. And then I got carried away and tied all kinds of random things in there, because honestly, it's so easy to do.
[color="#0000FF"]Again: the only things remotely relevant to the thread are the sections in quoteblocks. (The bit on the Fox-spirits is actually part of native heathen JP and KR tradition, and I think CN tradition too.)[/color]
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The Tails of the Missing Vaahanam
Hereby is narrated a certain important feature of the Emperor Julian's life that is prominent in all parallel universes but this one (this one being a great aberration) in which he was ever victorious. It has often been noted that His Highness The Earthly Male Superlative was Self-Complete and lacking in nothing. While this is true, the other observation that is equally true is that all major Heroes and most Divinities are seen accompanied by what is called in Hindoo terminology as a "vaahanam", a sacred animal that is always represented with the hero or Divinity. This is true not only of many historical heathen heroes but also of those fictional heathen heroes that strike at the heart of truth. An example for both cases that easily come to mind include the Varaaha of Taro and the Red Elk of Ashitaka.
While some have commented that something seemed "missing" about the Emperor's person by which they subconsciously allude to the absence of a vaahanam, in truth, his Exalted Imperial Perfection did possess one such animal also. Most in our world would tend to conclude that it must have been a Horse, this being a great sacred animal and one much popular for it. However, every soldier in the Roman cavalry and the Trojan one before it had one heroic steed such as this, and therefore a Horse could not distinguish the Earthly Male Superlative from all the other men. The details of the particular Animal, its species, its origins, its features, its names, its heroism, its peculiarities, its life and its passing are herewith documented, pieced together from various ancient Roman and Greek accounts and hearsay.
That Great Goddess of the Greeks and Romans alike, Unequalled in battle and who did subdue Ares himself during the war at Troy, once did give divine thought to what sort of animal would best suit the Imperial Champion, and which could accompany him loyally, serve him in good stead and for the particular purpose she had in mind for it, and be generally memorable to the adoring heathen masses. Deciding upon its species in unison with the counsel of Kronion and the other Deathless Ones, she sped off from Sacred Olympos to the Land of The Rising Sun which belonged to the exalted Nipponese Sun Goddess Amaterasu and other Sacred Kami. There, a Japanese variant like that of a husky of somewhat orange hue did live in ancient times, as it does yet linger though in sadly reduced numbers today. Its Japanese name was then unknown to the ancient Roman chroniclers, though the Olympic Goddess did privately come to know it from the Kami themselves, who introduced her to the animal. But modern heathen Classicists know to supply its name now, being more familiar today with the Karafuto-Ken (known in the west by the name Sakhalin Husky), [1] which is the ancestor of the brave ancient Akita dog breed that famously inspired the courage and perseverance of Samurai. [2]
The Graeco-Roman Goddess, having landed in the sacred land inhabited and hallowed by the Kami, sought immediate counsel in her friendly undertaking with those Deathless Ones who reside ever there. As a token of their lasting and ancient friendship, the Kami of the Heavens and the Earth brought forth a divine animal for Athena to gaze upon. She clapped and cheered upon seeing the sacred Shinto hound, and after befriending it, she put the whelp in an intricate bag she had wrought for the purpose and took it back speedily to the sacred lands that were home to the Olympic Gods and the Greeks and Romans. There she devised to introduce it in timely fashion into the life of the Great Earthly One Favoured By Olympus. Thus, akin to the Celestial Hound of Erlang Shen of the Daoists, the emperor Julian would acquire a Hound of his own. Although the Goddess acquainted the animal with the fact that its purpose in being brought here was to serve as a faithful comrade to a Kingly Man, she withheld the identity of the Human so as to allow the animal to make up its own mind in its own time.
It was some years after Julian's return to his ancestral religion, but before his rise in the Imperial ranks to Caesar, that the Goddess orchestrated a meeting between the dog and the young prince. There are several tales that purport to document where exactly the encounter took place. [3] What is consistent between the accounts is that, surprising him, it barked at him valiantly, and, perceiving both its bravery and good-natured friendliness, he took to it. Over time, he coaxed it into following him, after demonstrating to it that he was a friend to animals. The animal -- possessed of prodigious powers to discriminate between the worthless and worthy, which many humans have yet to acquire -- decided that the young prince was far more than worthwhile, having concluded that the human was complete in himself and therefore worthy of its own company, and followed him willingly. In time, as with all those in possession of a dog, the man came to more deeply admire his animal's attractive furry appearance and heroic and amiable canine qualities, and spent numerous pleasant hours in its company staring up at Helios and sacred night skies together: it would howl at the moon, at times joined by a wolvish chorus in the distance, while he contemplated his empire and love for his Gods.
While he took joy in its company, in its turn, it followed him everywhere. Fiercely loyal and of a bravery matching that of the bravest Shinto warriors before and since, it accompanied him into armed confrontations at all times. First into battle and last in the retreat, of a speed like unto that of the Divine Wind (said to have been a blessing of the Wind Kami), with a bark that reverberated throughout the Four Worlds -- these being Kronion's seat at Olympos, Poseidon's domain the Sea, Erebus where Father Dis doth reign and the Earth ruled in common by the Three Exalted Divine Brothers. Some say the impressive and widely-heard acoustics of the bark that made the world tremble was partly owing to the Glorious Athena favouring it by striking Her Spear hard against her Shield every time it was prone to emit the Canine Thunder. Others explain that it already possessed this quality from its own Shinto origins: that its beloved Kami, especially the Thunder, had blessed it with the ability to summon their voices in conjunction with its own. Others say both reasonings are of equal truth, and did combine together to make the sound all the more magnificent. Whatever be the case, the barking during battle, and the howling upon its forcibly dismounting an enemy, would send fear into the heart of foes -- who would reel mindless and supine to the auditory assault -- while speeding courage into the hearts of friends who would jump up, invigorated, to re-double their assault on the witless.
In sacred imagery of the Emperor as Warrior, his Dog would be seen alongside him donned in Divine Armour also. It was none other than the skilled God Hephaestos, labouring alongside Kami Smithies, that had factually fashioned the Samurai-like armour bearing Hellenistic motifs for the earthly canine to wear into battle. Athena had guaranteed to a very young Karafuto-Ken that it would be suitably-attired for battle if it would but serve its future master faithfully, and she had proceeded to introduce the creature to Hephaestos. Thereupon, the God had taken its measurements and created the fearsome dazzling armour, just as in days of yore He had created divine armour for the Peleides, King of the Myrmidons, as well. The details of the remarkable armour have been so accurately described, they are visible in the sculptures of the Great Heathen Hero and his Heathen Shinto Animal Friend that have profusely littered the Hellenistic world after the 4th century.
The deed Julian's animal companion is best remembered for occurred during the Persian Campaign of the Emperor, when it leapt into the air and caught the spear that would have speared the Spearman. The world over, those heathens with divine vision nodded to themselves that this was a game-changing event in the annals of their universe, whereas to the stunned Roman soldiery gathered it was an act of great skill and heroism: the Emperor would have been attacked treacherously from behind, by the latest christian plot, and things could well have ended in ways too (permanently) terrifying for them to have imagined. But the creature is said to have sensed the impending villainy as if by its mystical animal senses -- though some say Athena had brought it all the way to the Empire from Japan for this very purpose and had instructed the animal to keep watch for this very moment -- and after catching and snapping the deadly missile, it leapt on the christian Arabian assailant, dislodged him from his horse and brutally cracked his skull or snapped his neck (both accounts are given). The Roman soldiers, dumbfounded both by the speed and the vehemence with which the creature launched itself on the enemy, found their voices again and hailed its greatness, its protection of their beloved King and its contribution to their victory. The King himself, turning instantly around, felt shock at the nearness of possible death and gratitude to his furry companion, but mingled with a sense of horror: the creature's attack on the human assailant was violent and almost vengeful. It had grabbed and shaken the head of the man it overcame vigorously -- the head had been crushed in its Jaws Of Death -- and it thereafter bayed and then howled to the sky, as if marking that it had fulfilled its stated duty. (Some eyewitnesses record that an eagle passed on the auspicious side at this time.) The wolvish creature's fangs dripped blood and its facial and neck fur were covered in the same and the whole aspect of the creature seemed no longer orange or even brown, but dark like that of a raging storm with angry red eyes, as it turned for one last look around. It had then looked veritably like it was in that state which the far-off Hindoos call Raudrakaalam. The Emperor was fearful the creature may have gone fey and wild, having fallen prey to some sudden disease -- perhaps even rabies -- not having ever known it in this mood before, and his later descriptions explained that he had wondered then whether and how this was indeed the same Dog he knew, the one that would not stop absurdly wagging its tail at him in friendly familiarity. However, the creature seemed to regain its composure almost instantly after howling its completion of its bloody mission, and the dark sea of its fur regained a recognisable brown shade as it returned to the Emperor's side and fought on normally. [4] Julian himself did wash the blood from its fangs afterward -- though its divine armour had by that time gained a permanent red mark to commemorate its discharging its purpose -- and coaxed the creature back into good temper, at which point it seemed to be again the playful pup he had known. These events have been recorded by numerous biographers and close friends of the Emperor: Libanios devotes an entire chapter on the Hound's Triumph, and several composers included the event in their war ballads. Christians, of course, cursed the heaven-blessed creature for a while, but they came to nothing in the end as the Emperor's renewed efforts thereafter permanently routed their diseased religion until this and all its fatal potentialities wafted away from the world like the memory of an ill wind.
Although the creature was very faithful to its Human and his men, it had its idiosyncracies: it would not hunt. [5] This peculiarity has been mentioned by various biographers who were told the matter by the Emperor himself, as owing to how, in the animal's country of birth, the pup had befriended various animal creatures and learnt their speech. As a result, it would adamantly refuse to join any of the imperial troops in La Chasse and would stay behind, though it did not judge them upon their return. It allowed that the Emperor must needs catch the Sacred Apis Bull, though rare, to offer to Jupiter to ensure the prosperity of the Hellenistic Empire and its protection from the alarming Cretin infestation that had then still been proceeding apace. The canine's own dietary preferences included steamed cabbage and carrots and raw fruits which the Emperor had his men specially prepare for its delectation. However, the Emperor himself undertook its periodic baths, as would happen when no stream was nearby for the creature to run or paddle in and briefly submerge itself under. On the occasions of a bath, the playful creature would wrestle with the King and always made the event into a sort of game with as end goal trying to get the Emperor rained under by its energetically shaking off the water from its glorious coat, even sneaking up on Julian at the end of the bath time if it had not tasted success before. In time, the Emperor saw through the game and gave up trying to remain dry.
A remarkable trait of this Hound that seems to have passed into legend, from where its effects may perhaps have become magnified over time, is that to children, friend and the heathenising the creature appeared of easy approach: cuddly, cute and -frankly- irresistible; a beautiful vision that appeared in their dreams thereafter (as it had initially done to Prince Julian, at that early time when it had yet to make itself a permanent member of his close circle), especially whenever they were assailed by fears and despondency. After its appearance during their minds in slumber, they woke up refreshed with a sense of being protected by The Earthly Male Superlative and His Hound, even as their worries dissipated as fog in the bright Sun. Children were inspired to draw the attractive furry animal and invent further adventures concerning it, while parents did feed others of its species in fond remembrance of how these were related to the Emperor's Companion.
To the soldiers of the Emperor, it appeared as their comrade, one of their own, a loyal, trustworthy, fleet, four-footed warrior that would join them in their charges and help track down the living trapped underneath the rubble of war to recover them. It served as their mascot and its bark was their rallying call and its howl was their victory cry.
To enemies and the christianising, however, the Hound was their veritable nightmare manifest into tangible and definite form. Its face was fanged and contorted into a vision of fearsomeness for them. This dreaded memory of the Great Enemy of mono-gawdism and his Hound has passed down in space-time, to reappear unreasonably even in this world, in islam's description of the hound and all its kind as "Al-Shaytan", "the Devil". The moslems shudder in irrational fear at its distant all-pervading echo from parallel universes, and seek protection from it by appealing to their non-existent invisible entity. During the day, their fear and hatred for the Divine Shinto Animal manifests in their brutalising dogs. But the Warrior Dog of the Emperor watches all their crimes and will repay them all one day. In christianised countries of our world, the animal went down in myth as the Hound From Hell, and resurfaced in both its imposed christian aspect of villain and its heathen aspect of loyal heroic friend even in such recent works as Tolkien's Lays of Beleriand, where the Hellish Carcharoth, Morgoth's Wolf of Angband, was derived from the christian version of the Canine's lingering influence in our dimension, even as the Dog was the inspiration for Huan, the Hunting Hound of the Elves who was befriended by Luthien; both of these characters of modern myth being based on the same creature.
Whatever it may have meant to others, it was of course, ultimately, the Emperor's Own Hound. Besides serving as one of Julian's most loyal companions, alongside Sallustius and others of the Emperor's valued company, his four-footed friend that emanated from the Land of the Rising Sun was also invaluable to the Roman King of Kings in other respects: the Caesar found it was eminently pettable, and increasingly realised that stroking its head was moreover de-stressing, and he came to like to rest his own head else lean back against the seated animal when pondering difficulties or staring into oblivion. Whenever he could not see a way out of a predicament, he would bury his head in its deep, soft and luxurious fur, which, though he did not know it for a fact, possessed certain magical healing qualities that renewed hope and fortitude. He had come to recognise the divine creature as a gift from the Gods sent to guard him and his heathen empire, which of course it was. He therefore liked to throw his arms around the animal for no reason at all and whisper gentle, heart-felt words of endearment to it -- quite as all humans who have ever possessed animal friends have been prone to do; and the absurd, affectionate animal would lick him in return. When devising new strategems against christianism or writing pamphlets exposing the Great Falsehood, he would take his dear animal's counsel: it would bark approvingly whenever it agreed or was convinced on any point, which turned out to be every single time, and the Emperor graciously accepted that this input was not a fawning compliment to him but mere impartiality to his meritorious ideas. The animal never left His Imperial Male Magnificence's company: at times of worship it would stand by quietly, looking acceptably piously-inclined towards the Olympic Gods, and Julian would allow it to take part in offerings after libation (but soon learned to make sure it did not get too drunk, as liquor made its behaviour with regard to furniture -- already sparse in Julian's imperial household -- worse than that of a Vandal). Though the Emperor worked through many nights -- and it would stay up with him during his contemplations or else howl at the moon during Julian's nightly worship which became background hum to him -- there were times his Supreme Earthly Imperial Perfection would go to sleep. On such occasions he would suffer the Hound to leap onto the bedding and curl up with its head on the great and warm Imperial Heart, there falling asleep to the gentle thud-thudding. This, unfortunately, became a habit for the dog and it could not be weaned from it thereafter and was inclined to repeat the behaviour even on occasions when the Emperor would have preferred not to have the weight of another heavy blanket bearing down on him, such as during summer. The often Double, and at times as many as Nine, Tails of the Hound were found wrapped around the Emperor's arm in the mornings. Whether he had done so himself or whether the Hound had done this for/to him, is something the Emperor has not remarked on to his confidantes.
There has been conjecture that certain other of the Hound's magical abilities that have come down to us in legend are owing to its special ancestry, which is perhaps partly Sacred Fox according to Eastern heathen tradition such as Shinto, and which is mayhap somewhat Wolf according to western myth, or perhaps a combination of both. There are accounts of further strange behaviour from the creature on full-moon nights, often attributed in the west to its suspected Lupine ancestry, but which will not be dwelt on here, lest this more serious report of the verifiable and commonly-attributed features of the famous animal become diluted by imaginative tall-tales. [6]
As regards the blessed heathen creature's names and epithets, which are many and often of foreign tongue, numerous derive originally from the terms of endearment lavished upon the creature by the Emperor and his men. The primary word used as a name of address for the animal by the Emperor Himself was "Nakama", especially when he stroked its ears. It is not a Latin or Greek word, and it remains a cause of wonderment to historians as to how the Emperor should be familiar with Japanese when he was not known for it. Nowadays, people are more commonly acquainted with the fact that the exquisite word means "comrade", but the Emperor learning of this word (and apparently its meaning too) has baffled not a few. Some have said that Athena had introduced him to the creature by this name, but that does not explain how he used other Japanese words and taught his men to use the same in reference to his Hound: next to the simple descriptive of Karafuto-Ken was also to be heard "Senyuu" (comrade in arms) and "Tomo" (pal, mate, friend), "Shinseki" (kin, relative), "Shinrui" (family), all of which were imitatively used by the Roman soldiers of the well-loved Emperor in addressing the Dog, especially after it had shown its mettle during battle. The Emperor also referred to the Shinto beast affectionately as "Doushi" (kindred spirit) and "Douhai" (the Emperor's equal as his canine equivalent), and even as his "Chitsuzuki" (blood relation), though "[dear] Nakama" was his most favoured name for his four-legged friend. It is thought that this wealth of knowledge of appropriate Japanese nouns must have emanated from the Hound teaching Julian the equivalent in Japanese human speech for words the Man wished to address his Animal friend by. Although a very learned and skilled man, Julian is not generally known to have understood the speech of dogs, whereas the creature itself was famous for knowing the speech of other animals, which may have included that of men also.
Epithets in the common tongue of the Empire referred to the animal as the Emperor's Dog, the Emperor's Quadruped Comrade, the Canine Thunder (on account of its bark), Julian's Animal Friend, the Imperial Hellenistic Mascot, the Fierce Heathen, Shinto Hound, the Blessed Dog, the Kamis' Gift, Athena's Favoured One and Divine-Armour-Bearing-Fierce-Warrior-Hound. Further studies conducted by historians regarding the animal have come up with many more names that were in use, some of which are surprising. [7]
Upon the Emperor's ascendance to his ancestral Gods at Olympos, it is said that his Dog leapt for a last time onto his chest as he was laid to rest. And curled up once more, as was the animal's wont, it too fell into a final sleep. The mound raised over the Man is said to include his dear friend the Dog, as per these versions of the event. The Roman account has it residing with the once-human hero in the afterlife, and continuing its usual behaviour as on earth, though some other tales describe the animal as resting in its own lands of the heavenly Kami and returning whenever the Emperor has need for it or is glad of its company in general, including such as when heathen humans on this side of life look to the example of the Great Heathen Emperor in their need. At such moments, the Dog returns to His side -- swimming across from Japan at his call, and racing with thunderous footfalls over the Tundra or the Steppes and then the plains -- to thus be seen in vision reunited with Julian, donning once more its Divine Armour and with its loud bark echoing triumphantly.
Others, to the east, tell of the dog barking once, loudly, during the final farewell rite of its divinely-blessed human friend and to have swiftly been caught up in a whirling wind by Aeolus thereafter, who, by request of Athena and owing to her promise to the Kami on termination of the Dog's services, returned it to the land of its ancestors and its own Shinto Gods and religion: they say it passed into the realm of the Kami where, being given a hero's farewell by Shinto priests and enshrined in a native Temple, it dwells happily with them once more. This last version traces future generations of the breed back to one of these early famous examples of the heathen Shinto animal.
In any case, all huskies the world over have come to be regarded as related in some fashion to the Hound of the Imperial Heathen. And in like manner to how Elephants in far-off India are regarded as sacred and therefore become understandably conflated with their Gods Ganapati, the Son of Uma-Shiva, and Airavatam, the sacred mount of Indra, or how the Monkeys of the Hindoos are venerated as lingering members of the divine "Vanara Sena" of their God Rama, or all Hindoo cows are regarded as the true embodiments of the Hindoos' Gods -- in such manner, all Huskies have become synonymous with Julian's Shinto Hound, to the point where they have come to be seen (and see themselves) as identical or interchangeable with the original. In essence, all huskies and Karafuto-Ken in particular, can be viewed as the Emperor's Own Vaahanam. This has predictably become a matter of prodigious pride for various huskies in our own era.
Therefore, those in our universe who felt that the Emperor was missing a certain something were perceptive, though he did not lack a vaahanam in other universes. In all those, of course, he was always accompanied by Man's Best Friend. While Hindoos tend to threaten ominously that this is a Vedic reference to the Wife, the best friend of humanity in general was rather meant: the dog. And so ends the tale of a Man and His Dog -- or rather, the tale of The Hellenistic Emperor and his Shinto Hound -- as it has come down through the ages and tradition.
[1] en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sakhalin_Husky
Quote:The Sakhalin Husky, also known as the Karafuto-Ken (樺太犬?), is a breed of dog used as a sled dog.
This breed was a spitz type, related to other Japanese dogs, and considered to be a precursor to the Akita Inu.
[...]
Antarctic expedition
This breed's claim to fame came from the ill-fated 1958 Japanese research expedition to Antarctica, which made an emergency evacuation and was forced to leave behind 15 sled dogs. The researchers believed that a relief team would arrive within a few days, so they left the dogs chained up outside with a small supply of food; however, the weather turned bad and the team never made it to the outpost.
Incredibly, nearly one year later, a new expedition arrived and discovered that two of the dogs, "Taro" and "Jiro", had survived and they became instant heroes.[2] Taro returned to Sapporo, Japan and lived at Hokkaido University until his death in 1970, after which he was stuffed and put on display at the university's museum.[3] Jiro died in Antarctica in 1960 of natural causes and the remains are located at the National Science Museum of Japan in Ueno Park.
The breed spiked in popularity upon the release of the 1983 film, Nankyoku Monogatari, about Taro and Jiro. A second 2006 film, Eight Below, provided a fictional version of the occurrence, but did not reference the breed. Instead, the film features only eight dogs: two Alaskan Malamutes and six Siberian Huskies. In 2011, TBS presents the much waited drama, Nankyoku Tairiku, featuring Kimura Takuya. It tells the story of the 1957 Antarctica Expedition led by Japan and their Sakhalin Huskies.
The breed and the expedition are memorialized in a monument near Wakkanai, Hokkaido,[4] a monument under Tokyo Tower,[5] and a monument near Nagoya Port.[6]
(Note: the documentary/movie Nankyoku Monogatari by Koreyoshi Kurahara on the JP Antarctica expedition about the JP sledge dogs, had music composed by the Greek Vangelis. Album: "Antarctica".)
[2] telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/japan/3701839/Morie-Sawataishi-Saviour-of-Japans-akita-Samurai-dog.html
Quote:Morie Sawataishi: Saviour of Japan's akita Samurai dog
In the Second World War, the akita ââ¬â the ancient breed whose courage inspired Japanââ¬â¢s noble warriors ââ¬â faced extinction. Martha Sherrill went in search of the man who dedicated his life to its recovery .
[...]
In Japan, akitas are sometimes referred to as ikken isshu ââ¬â one-person dogs, uninterested in anyone but their owner.
[...]
They competed in village dog rings and other more casual gambling venues. Feudal lords collected them as living trophies and for several hundred years, from the 16th to the 19th century, the warrior class, the samurai, were inspired by the dogsââ¬â¢ courage and rugged fighting spirit. For a type of samurai infantryman in training, an akita dog was his teacher.
It never really mattered what the dogs looked like. Their essence or spirit was the quality most sought after. A good akita was quiet and fearless, could approach a cornered bear and prompt it to chase, and was virtually weatherproof.
[...]
An akita can be difficult for the inexperienced owner. They are fiercely loyal dogs, but their devotion can seem almost pathological. They can be overly protective of their owners and aggressive to strangers. While they can appear deceptively laid-back and mellow at times ââ¬â they are often described as catlike ââ¬â the akita isnââ¬â¢t the kind of dog to be patient with an annoying child or smaller animal.
[...]
By 1970 Morie had raised enough akitas to believe that he knew, pretty much, what an akita could do ââ¬â the limits of the breedââ¬â¢s strength and courage as well as its instincts. Then Samurai Tiger came along and raised the standard. The black-and-white akita was the finest hunter and a national champion in the ring. In 1979 Samurai Tiger died after fighting a bear. 'They say you only get one dog in your lifetime like Samurai Tiger,ââ¬â¢ Morie says. 'He inspired me, and rewarded my efforts over the years. He was so natural, and raw, and unspoilt. For me, he was everything I could ask for in a dog. And he had all the traits I hoped to some day see in myself.ââ¬â¢
Last autumn, when Shiro died at 15 ââ¬â an unimaginably old age for an akita ââ¬â Morie wondered if it wasnââ¬â¢t time for him to go, too. He planned a big funeral for his great white champion. A priest and dozens of mourners came. Morie still had two younger akitas left, but he lacked the energy to show them or take them hunting.
[3] The most familiar and generally reliable account of the fated meeting, describes the pup -- having just been released from Athena's sacred magic pouch into the dazzling light of day -- as coming upon the Flawless Man when the latter had dismounted to drink from a sacred stream. It was then that it barked at him, as if in some recognition that neither the creature nor the human could completely fathom. The Prince was caught unawares by its pleasing furry attractiveness, which apparently left an impression on his mind: gazing at it, an understandably deep love for the dear animal took root. Though his own heart was instantly pierced (and from which he never recovered) by its incomprehensible and unreachable beauty of being -- as all those who ever fell under the spell of love for animals or trees or the sky or mountains would know -- the baby animal itself beheld him without knowing what to make of him initially: it was only some time thereafter that it would learn of the young prince's pristine character.
And although, during this initial acquaintance, the creature gave chase to the imperial horse in playful fashion before it got itself lost, the young prince would for some days continue to dream about the fuzzy creature that seemed outlandish yet good-natured, and he became increasingly determined to track it down and befriend it, in order to permanently attach the creature to himself just as he had become attached to it. Neither he nor his men were successful in this from their own end, not then knowing the exact habits of the Shinto Husky variety. Unbeknownst to the Heathen Champion, it had not lost track of him, however, and was in fact following him all this while, having picked up his scent. It kept its distance and observed him from behind trees here and underneath rocks there, and noticed the Blessed Man's interactions with his soldiers and ordinary citizens. The kindness and friendly, approachable character of the man towards his subjects and his men ultimately convinced the Karafuto-Ken that this was a human worth befriending and following about. It then revealed itself once more to the Prince at last, this time in the presence of his soldiery, and allowed the young man to pat its head, though it would not suffer a noose: and as it followed him willingly immediately thereafter, he saw no need to tie it to his person.
[4] Some eye-witnesses remembered the event as the Emperor having to actively intervene to calm the creature down after its subduing the lethal enemy: Julian had to resort to throwing his cloak about the wild creature, since it could not hear his gentle voice trying to calm it down over the din that had by now resumed. With the cloak about it and it therefore unable to see much, he was able to approach it and make himself heard. It is said that at this point the Dog became tranquil and its usual self once more, and returned to his side thereafter.
[5] The Emperor's biographers quote him as instructing his men to give up trying to convince it to join them: "It's not a hunting dog."
[6] Dubious sources have fancifully described that on full-moon nights the Emperor's Karafuto-Ken would change shape so that it was suddenly the human head of a lady that was resting on the Emperor's heart. One such 'source' describes how the Emperor himself woke up on an occasion to find a beautiful dark-haired maiden where his Dog had been, with her arm wrapped around his. And, thinking it but a dream and confused by the dark mass of fragrant hair spread about his dizzy vision, the Emperor drifted back to sleep and awoke in the morning proper, to realise it was but his trusted four-footed comrade all along and dismissed the rest as imaginings. This dream he was alleged to have shared once, much later on and in passing, with some friends, from which the unlikely sources claim to trace their accounts to.
These stories were no doubt of later origin, probably confusing the alleged lupine ancestry popularly attributed to the Dog by chroniclers (huskies do look a little like wolves to populations unfamiliar with huskies, such as the Romans were) with the fact that the trusted Comrade of the Emperor became associated with the Fox-Lady of Shinto and Korean Shamanism on account of its many tails. In brief: in these eastern religions, some ladies are not women but are actually Foxes (Fox Kamis) with many tails, which are specifically considered to be magical creatures that can transform, and moreover have a tendency to transform into humans, surmised to be one of the forms natural to them. There have been many cases documented in both ancient Japan and Korea (and China) of such creatures marrying humans, and this persists in modern storytelling such as a famous Korean romantic-comedy series from the last decade. In some ancient cases reported, the marriage was a happy one, in other cases the creature was duplicitous or some other calamity befell to separate the lovers. It is unlikely, however, that the august personage of the eternally-praiseworthy Emperor had ended up with this particular kind of Dog, despite many a description and early carving of his famed canine companion treating of its multiple tails. Furthermore, the Emperor is specifically documented by his famous biographers as not noticing women -- beautiful or otherwise -- at that time, being far too busy then with matters closer (if not to heart, then) to hand, such as the disease of christianism.
It is probable that the Emperor's keen but common affection for his faithful, furry, four-footed little friend and most especially its reciprocal doting on the Emperor has further contributed to this mythmaking: Karafuto-Ken are, after all, notoriously attached to their humans (as indeed are many dogs to this day). Another influential factor may have been that no one seems to have specifically recorded the gender of the Dog, which presumably left the matter open-ended for speculation and unnecessary mythologising.
The more commonly heard variant of this myth, and which has more insistent and more ancient supporters, is that the Dog (or part Wolf) was not itself a woman, but that a fair Greek maiden was to have been caught into sharing the Karafuto-Ken's body for a time: out of desperation, newly-converted christians given to still dabbling in occult magic -- of the harmful kind that had specifically been discouraged by heathen Roman emperors and Hellenistic society -- were to have contrived a curse on the Emperor to never be married or have any progeny, by stipulating that his choice should ever be withheld from him. But taking counsel with Athena, Goddess Vesta (Hestia) herself was to have safely hidden the young maiden in Julian's Nakama temporarily, until such a time as christianism's imminent defeat, so that the creature could protect her from within itself even as it protected him from without. These accounts, otherwise similar in describing the maiden as occasionally manifesting in the Emperor's chamber on full-moon nights, date the appearance of the maiden to around the time when the Emperor was decisively defeating the Cretinous disease once and for all, around his 33rd year. The curse was broken in conventional manner when the Emperor decided to marry the heathen lady, and so the Faithful Dog could finally return to being the sole inhabitant of its form. (The Queen was to have had an abiding affection for the Dog, though shy by nature of any wild and large creature with sharp teeth, and would place its food on its platter from behind the Emperor and would gladly watch it eat heartily; and she dared to pet it only whenever it was occupied hugging the Emperor, though it would in turn try to immediately return the affection by nudging against her with its adorable head.)
Whatever the tale of the Greek maiden's origins and background and the manner of the Emperor's meeting with her, it remains a fact that in parallel universes, she married him and the Emperor's line therefore has been divinely favoured to be markedly prolific and more enduring than that of others, including more so than even that of the Genghis Khan in ours, though the Emperor managed this throughout by adhering to the Roman religious tradition concerning marriage (i.e. monogamy). And thus there are many Hellenes scattered throughout the modern all-heathen Hellenistic Republic that trace back to their far-famed Heroic heathen forebear and continue to share in his faultless qualities.
[7] Libanios for instance documents the then-popular use of "Many-tailed one", "Single-tailed one", "Colour-changing Wolf", "Divine Snow Dog", "Four-footed one Born in the Distant Realm of the Sun Goddess".
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Man, it's so easy to invent a story on the spot centred around a smattering of history, using factual events and persons to concoct something that didn't happen and to then keep developing it further. "Pseudo-history". The emperor would have disapproved.
Ugh fine, to be emphatic then:
Disclaimer -
- the above is [obviously] a work of (terribly bad) fiction - "animal fan fiction" :woohoo: - using some factual background such as of Japanese huskies and their traits, the Emperor being historical, and of course the tales of Fox-ladies being true to eastern heathen narratives (and mixed in with features of an older story of my own concerning wolves mistaken for dogs and which turn human overnight, although I reversed the genders in this case: I used to like inventing odd 'fairy tales' when I was a kid, what can I say. Plus I like wolves. Oh and the bit on the Imperial Queen being shy of large animals and putting food on the Dog's plate by standing behind the Emperor is based on my Grandmother and Grandfather and a fierce dog the latter had rescued and re-habilitated. The speaking with animals thing is also inspired by my Grandfather, though he spoke in his human tongue to various animals - including very wild and ferocious ones at their fiercest of moments - and always had a great and unreal heathen power of influence over them. An "animal-whisperer" of superhuman ability, though perhaps he wasn't quite human.) All (other) resemblance in the fictional parts to any real historical person or animal, or to any Divinity or historical event is unintended and is coincidental. And absolutely no offence was meant to persons or animals divine.
(Why do I feel I have to apologise for everything? :gah
- there is no evidence that the Emperor had a vaahanam, let alone that this was a dog or of husky breed in particular. Personally, I have long felt that the Emperor deserves a Vaahanam, since it would cement his status as a Heathen Hero, and the idea is just appealing for some reason. A Japanese Samurai Dog sounds a great choice in my opinion, but I would equally cheer for a wolf (so closely associated with both Rome and the birthplace of the Emperor in Anatolia where the Troy of his Roman ancestors was situated).
The story was inspired by my remembering how Emperor Julian himself coined and popularised the phrase "There is only one Julian" to seriously tick off the christians who were peddling the poisonous absurd nonsense of "There is only one gawd".
One imagines the Emperor must have been grinning as he came up with it, and in any case, it remains hysterically funny no matter how often I revisit the famous phrase. (Christian 'historians' are still pretty peeved about it: it exposes the utter triviality of their absurd cherished belief.) Anyway, because it seemed such a feat to be so funny that your humour still appeals (to those with a sense of humour) even ~1700 years after your passing, I thought that a Hero so all-round awesome deserved a vaahanam. And then I got carried away and tied all kinds of random things in there, because honestly, it's so easy to do.
[color="#0000FF"]Again: the only things remotely relevant to the thread are the sections in quoteblocks. (The bit on the Fox-spirits is actually part of native heathen JP and KR tradition, and I think CN tradition too.)[/color]