I got Dori when I was four — a lab puppy, small enough to curl up above my

I got Dori when I was four — a lab puppy, small enough to curl up above my head on the pillow.

She was more than a dog. She was an accomplice.

We dug together under the porch, her paws flicking dirt back toward me as I carved out little infrastructure for my trucks. She followed me along the paths I’d carved in the bushes. She was next to me in the fenced-in animal yard with goats and geese and chickens, a furry anchor as the old grandpa goose hissed and tried to bite.

Kids remember who takes their side in the world of adults and animals. Dori was on my side, always.

I think my sense of companionship with animals — the animist streak that runs through my work now — began there: a boy and a dog, making pathways under a porch no adult ever saw.