Quotation from: White Fang

Written by: Jack London

Weedon Scott did not hear. He was squatting down on his heels, face to
face with White Fang and petting him--rubbing at the roots of the ears,
making long caressing strokes down the neck to the shoulders, tapping the
spine gently with the balls of his fingers. And White Fang was growling
responsively, the crooning note of the growl more pronounced than ever.

But that was not all. What of his joy, the great love in him, ever
surging and struggling to express itself, succeeding in finding a new
mode of expression. He suddenly thrust his head forward and nudged his
way in between the master's arm and body. And here, confined, hidden
from view all except his ears, no longer growling, he continued to nudge
and snuggle.