
In the quiet suburban streets of Watsonia, South Africa, an extraordinary golden retriever named Jackie is born with an intelligence that defies everything humans think they know about animal consciousness. What begins as a simple territorial dispute over a single street evolves into an epic saga spanning years, continents, and the very boundaries between species.

My father, Don Victor Vaughn, on his deathbed, summoned all the family's made men. In front of everyone, he entrusted me, and the entire Vaughn family, to Julian Russo. My uncle, Julian. “Shannon is still young. Treat her well.” “When you two marry, everything the Vaughn family has will be yours.” Julian silently agreed. He raised me for eight years, treasuring me like a precious jewel. Our feelings for each other had long since crossed the forbidden line between uncle and niece. But at our wedding, he slit my mother Isabella Vaughn’s throat with a single slash of his knife. He clamped his hand on my head and roared in my ear. “If it wasn’t for your father’s scheme, how could Sophia and I have ever been separated!” “I’ve been a dog for you Vaughns for all these years, just for this day!” “I’m going to make you feel my pain!” I showed no mercy. I shot him, breaking his arm, and fled far away. Years later, he was getting remarried. I returned in a stunning red dress, dressed to kill. I faced him and fired two shots.



To secure my financial support, Ulric played nice for three years. After saving enough to buy a house in full, I proposed marriage to him. He refused, telling me to wait a little longer. I had no idea what he was waiting for. Until one day, at the entrance of the hospital, I heard a woman calling her dog: Flora. The person holding the dog was Ulric. Flora is my name. I had dreamed countless times about him kneeling on one knee, proposing to me. But later, he knelt in front of me, calling out "Flora." I sneered coldly, "Are you calling the dog, or are you calling me?"

Seeing the woman in front of me fawning over me with that fake-ass smile, I was completely stunned. After all, the last time I’d seen her was a whole lifetime ago. That’s right—I was reborn. Back then, after Victoria Songham shoved me out to block the zombies and Max dragged me back from the brink, I spent a quiet, stable month under his protection. I thought I could just hide and survive until the end of the apocalypse. I didn’t expect that when the horde finally came, I’d still end up as a piece of meat on a zombie’s plate. I just don’t know… if Max came back and couldn’t find me, would he lose control?