Monk - as are most canines - is hyper-sensitive to emotional states. Frustration makes him nervous. Anger scares him. Fury terrifies him. This hyper-sensitivity, which is really a form of hyper-empathy (not in this case, however, in the sense of identifying with the emotional state of another, but rather feeling the full brunt of it, taking in, and often being overwhelmed by the energy of the emotion, even though it was not directed towards him), made Monk the ideal moral compass because he would become so emotionally distraught when I entered these altered states (I really don't know what else to call them) that his response was to tuck his tail between his legs and slowly and trepidatiously trot off towards home in order to get away from me.
As he moved away from me, in an obvious posture of frightened submissiveness, he would keep looking back at me every few steps, gauging me, evaluating me; he was totally cued into me: he registered every facial twitch, every change in complexion, every flex of every muscle, the tone and pitch of my voice, the overall tension of my body, how I was holding myself, and as long as he picked up barely restrained savage rage - which was a throwback, by the way, to my early years of depression in my teens when my depression manifested in rage, which is not unusual in young boys - he continued to move slowly away from me.