Magnus Burnsides keeps dogs for all of his adult life. He loves them, of course, and they love him, but the thing about all dogs is that, no matter what, they live significantly shorter lives than humans do. He develops a reputation for taking in very elderly pooches who are unwanted, and each time one of them passes away, he completes a little ritual that he’s developed over the years. First, he sends for a friend, a fellow he’s come to see over the years as a brother-in-law. The dogs are often scared of him at first, but his is a comforting presence, and they always warm up to him. While Death and the dogs are making friends, Magnus writes letters. The dogs follow his friend on a last long walk, one that moves right from this plane and on into the next. They stop at the porch of a little sturdy cottage, and the occupant opens the door. After she makes small talk, welcomes the new charges, and sits for a cup of tea, she reads Magus’s letters. He always starts them with something like this: “here’s a buddy of mine who wants to keep you company. He’s a very good boy.” And he always signs the letters: “see you sooner.”