A familiar song plays, returning me to a pleasant memory in time, where my dog sat in the passenger seat of my old stick shift convertible—a soft top VW Cabrio as the Vermont backroads beckoned us. I leashed her, she leaped inside, I turned the key, and gone. The wind in our hair, sunshine above, trees, mountains, life and the secluded pond awaited. She sat buckled into the seat, I bought 2 twenty-four ounce beers, stuck them in the center console. I set my playlist, opened both beers, draine...