By Terence Kuch
In the middle of the night a dog howls. Then another, then more. I and the other townspeople are awakened by the din. Gradually, one by one, we begin to howl too, and howl until morning.
“Now I understand my dog,” a friend tells me the next day, “how deeply it has seen into reality without the curse of language.”
I nod my head and wait for the night.