Sign Special — THOREN · May 24 – June 12

Thank you, Benedetto.

Thorin then, May 24th through June 12th, 20 days of the year, and the sign of onyx, a deep black stone, polished smooth, and hard as a promise kept, whose mood is dependable strength, which is a polite way of saying this dog has appointed itself responsible for everyone in the house, including the house.

Thorin is the guardian of the pack, and it runs on the den instinct, which means home is not a place to a Thorin.

Home is a post, and somebody has to stand it.

Its gift is stability.

The Thorin dog is protective, reliable, and holds one unshakable article of faith, that if anything goes wrong, it will be handled because it intends to be standing exactly where it goes wrong.

While the rest of the pack is still deciding what the day is for, the Thorin has checked the doors, counted the puppies, noted which human looks tired, and taken up its position at the center of the household like a load-bearing wall with a heartbeat because to a Thorin, that is precisely what it is.

Now, the other side of the page because this paper tells the whole truth.

This is a dog that has never once believed a problem belonged to somebody else.

It has inspected the luggage, supervised the plumber, audited the children's homework, and attempted personally to escort the thunderstorm to the county line.

The sign's great temptation is control, and its standing warning is a serious one delivered kindly.

Beware of building walls instead of boundaries, of fencing the whole yard when all that was wanted was a gate that opens.

Under stress, the strength stiffens into a resistance to change, and its one true companion fear is disorder, not danger, which it would meet professionally, but the terrible day the routine breaks, the furniture moves, and the den it guards so faithfully no longer matches the map in its head.

Its vice is rigidity.

Its virtue is reliability.

The same stone given or imposed.

Its official motto is the whole biography in three words, "I've got you." And its favorite human excuse is the sentence the whole household can recite in chorus, "Somebody had to do it," which is how you know the guarding has quietly become governing, and the guardian would not have it any other way.

Its natural habitat is the family home.

Anywhere there is a hallway to hold, a doorway to occupy, and a family spread across four rooms, all of them at all times within range of its concern.

Its lucky object is the iron lock.

Its lucky place, the family farm.

Its lucky color, forest green.

And its lucky food is a pot roast, which is, of course, a guardian's dish: slow, certain, and enough for everybody twice.

Its best match is Ashen, the smoky quartz sign, whose whole philosophy fits in four words, "We'll make it work," and whose calm improvisation teaches all that vigilance that a changed plan is not a fallen house.

Its rival is Velkar, the topaz sign, who runs on joyful momentum, treats every morning as the first day of vacation, and hears, "I've got you," as an invitation to be gone by lunch, while the Thorin has already said it twice and taken up its post at the eighth door.