Last night, an extraordinary sensation: I was on the couch, and the dog was sleeping adjacent to me, as is usually the case when I’m winding down before bed. Slowly the rapid (and unsettling) movements that often manifest in his face and breath and limbs when he’s dreaming began to emerge. I began to feel the slight, gentle impressions of his feet wiggling against my thigh. Can you imagine what a dog’s dream-world must be like?

A few months after adopting him I genuinely didn’t know if he’d ever take to human touch. Some rescue dogs, especially from hoarding situations like his, don’t. But here he was, after nearly a year in this home, safe and fast asleep. And here I was, charmed by the quiet intimacy, feeling his unconscious motions, tiny transmissions from a world only he can visit.

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