by Jane Koerner The house shakes and groans as the shriek of a locomotive cuts short a fitful sleep. I must be in Kansas, my birthplace, instead of Fairplay, Colorado. I reach for Toto at the foot of the bed. Oh, my! How furry his ears are! How sharp his teeth! And Beast, all 60 pounds of him, crawls onto my belly, trolling for a head scratch. Indoors he is impervious to the wind. But even he loses his equanimity, parking his head between my legs in hopes of turning me around, when we’re hiking up some ridge in the ...