I decided it was time to name the dogs.
It was getting awkward to keep referring to them simply as "the male" or "the mother dog."
In fact, I had already named the four puppies.
Since they were all black, I called them Kuroichi, Kuroni, Kurosan, and Kuroyon.
Kuroichi was curious and energetic.
Kuroni was the cautious one, never leaving Kuroichi’s side.
Kurosan was the strongest of the four, and she also happened to be the only female.
Kuroyon marched to the beat of his own drum, often doing his own thing while the other three were occupied elsewhere.
Since I was already calling the puppies by those names, it occurred to me that I should do the same for the parents.
At first, I thought calling them Kuro-papa and Kuro-mama would be enough, but...
The one time I tried it, they looked so dejected that I realized I needed to give the matter some serious thought.
My list of candidates: Kuro Black Schwarz Noir Nero Hei Kurotarou Kuromaru
I was a bit embarrassed by my own lack of creativity, so I decided to write the names on the ground and let the father dog choose for himself.
I intended to write in Japanese, but the characters automatically transformed into a script I didn't recognize.
Even so, I could read them perfectly.
I assumed this was another benefit of the Beginner’s Pack God had mentioned.
Since I hadn’t spoken to anyone or had any reason to write until now, I hadn't even noticed the feature.
In any case, it was time to pick a name.
Once the father’s name was settled, I planned to find a matching feminine name for the mother.
That was when I received further proof of just how intelligent these dogs were.
Whether they could actually read my writing or not, the father dog seemed dead-set on "Schwarz." However, the mother dog intervened, pinning his head down as if to protest and demanding he settle for "Kuro" instead.
Having lost the argument, the father dog reluctantly placed his paw on the word "Kuro."
"Are you sure about that?" I asked, unable to help myself.
Naturally, there was no verbal reply, but his eyes seemed to say, "I can't go against the missus."
...I'll make sure tonight's dinner is extra special for him.
And so, the father dog’s name became Kuro.
Now, as for the mother dog...
Candidates: Shiro Yuki Tsurara Mizore
While I was still mulling over the options, the mother dog claimed "Yuki" for herself.
I wondered if she cared that I was trying to name her "Shiro"—White—despite her pitch-black fur, simply because she was Kuro’s mate.
More than that, I could have sworn Kuro was looking at me with an expression that said, "Wait, is your naming sense for her even worse than it was for me?" I chose to believe it was just my imagination.
Regardless, her name was officially Yuki.
Kuro, Yuki, Kuroichi, Kuroni, Kurosan, and Kuroyon.
...
Yuki’s name felt a bit more special than the others, but I decided not to overthink it.
Kuro and the others were essentially free to do as they pleased.
They spent their time heading into the forest or patrolling the fields.
However, for some reason, one of them was always by my side.
Perhaps they were taking turns acting as my bodyguard?
Whatever the reason, it certainly made my daily chores feel less lonely.
During a break in my work, I tried carving a flying disc out of wood.
If you have a dog, you have to play fetch.
When I threw it to the puppies as a toy, it was a much bigger hit than I expected.
It wasn't just the puppies, either—Kuro and Yuki scrambled to be the first to grab it.
They were playing for keeps.
Even the puppies weren't backing down.
I had hoped for a more harmonious playtime.
To settle the dispute, I had to make a disc for each of them and throw them in a strict rotation.
That stopped the fighting, but now I had a new problem: I wished they would stop bringing the discs to me every single time I looked like I was taking a breather.
Their physical abilities were incredible, and I had to throw with all my might just to keep them satisfied... My arm was starting to ache.