I plop my hand on her head and she looks up at me with her soft, brown eyes. What matters right now, in this moment, at the edge of the universe in the mountains? Turkey throws a paw at my arm and for a moment, we are arm-in-arm, beholden only to each other – her looking at me, me looking back at her. I feel like we could live here like this forever, just a boy and his dog in the late glow of summer. If Turkey could talk, she would tell me that this was the best moment ever, and she wouldn’t be wrong.