jolts me into sun diamonds and crunching snow as we turn round and around, myself attempting to unravel her leash from my knees as she follows me eagerly with wet nose and lapping tongue. Sophia! who sensed, on this winter path, my longing and leapt toward it, a sleek muscle of joy that nearly knocked me down, all kisses and cornsilk-soft ears and a name that means Wisdom, a name that is not wasted on this animal whose owner, an elderly man wearing woolen ear flaps, is crying, Sophia, have some manners, Sophia, in a charmingly accented voice that Sophia wisely ignores, continuing to kiss and kiss this strange woman who smelled like sadness a moment ago, this woman who is now laughing.
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