Let the Lion Dog be small; let it wear the swelling cape of dignity
around its neck; let it display the billowing standard of pomp above
its back.
Let its face be black; let its fore-front be shaggy; let its forehead
be straight and low, like the brow of an Imperial righteous harmony
boxer.
Let its eyes be large and luminous; let its ears be set like the
sails of a war-junk; let its nose be like the monkey god of the
Hindus.
Let its forelegs be bent, so that it shall not desire to wander
far, or leave the Imperial precincts. Let its body be shaped like
that of a hunting lion spying for its prey.
Let its feet be tufted with plentiful hair that its footfall may
be soundless.
Let it be lively that it may afford entertainment by its gambols;
let it be timid that it may not involve itself in danger; let it
be domestic in its habits that it may live in amity with other
beasts, fishes or birds that find protection in the Imperial Palace.
Let it comport itself with dignity; let it be dainty with its food
that it shall be known for an Imperial dog by its fastidiousness.
Thus it shall preserve its integrity and self-respect;
and when it dies, remember, you too are mortal.
