“On the crest of the hill she saw him, a dark sleek form springing up from the grass like a bird startled from its nest. But the dog was not startled. It came towards her with sureness and speed, leaping up at her as she called its name. ‘Thunderwith, my beauty.’ She welcomed it with open arms. ‘My magic dog. Your are here. You’re not a dream at all. You’re here waiting for me.’ She buried her face in its coat and stood quietly for a minute.”