You probably think your dog loves you because you spread flea and tick oil between its shoulder blades, make sure it doesn't get heartworms, take it for nice walks, and sometimes feed it table food. Your dog wags its tail and nuzzles your hand and you think, "Fucking awwwww — this dog thinks I am Athena." While that might be true so long as you're doling out belly scratches and chicken skin, there's no way your dog loves you nearly as much as, Capítan, Argentina's most loyal animal ever, loves his dearly departed master, whose grave the stalwart Capítan has visited like Swiss clockwork every night at 6 p.m.
Pshaw, you might say because you're cynical and allergic to dogs. Big deal. Dogs are sycophantic losers — Capítan simply needs to find a hobby or something. Like origami or watercolors or knitting novelty uterus-shaped pillows. The thing is, though, that Capítan suddenly disappeared during the funeral for his master, Miguel Guzmán, who died in 2006. A week went by until one day Capítan, without ever having been shown his master's plot, turned up graveside, whimpering. He's assumed the post every night ever since, forcing everyone involved to take note of the fact that animals are operating on a way more meta level than the rest of us.
Image via Kirill Kurashov/Shutterstock.