Earlier this year, I lost my dog Remy. He was a true partner and a regal hound, perceptive and expressive; sometimes, it seemed that he knew what I was going to do before I did. During his last days, I often found myself holding my breath, hoping that by doing so, I might stop time as well, and keep death from coming for him. Remy had been with me — loyal, attentive and engaged — for nine years.