(an excerpt) . . . They say the world is won by those who let go. But this holding, this strain, this pulling up and up on the animal I love is my letting go. It says, or I hope it does, I know and I am not afraid. I will not leave you alone in your leaving. For seven years, my dog followed me. And now I follow him. And in following him, my straight paths have bent and bowed; every trail has wound into a labyrinth of scent and wonder. When I grow impatient or scared, and wha