At first, he could do little more than crawl as Bertram dug in with all fours. But he finally found one foot and then the other.
He wished he could say he didn’t remember the rest of the trip back to the cabin, but he did, every grueling second of it.
His morning cooking fire had kept the cabin warm. And even that remaining bit of warmth was enough to sustain him through restoking the fire, stripping, and crawling into bed.
Unable to snap his fingers, he stuttered out the dog’s name and Bertram climbed in beside him. He too was shivering.
Stan held him close, hard against his chest, but the dog didn’t complain.
He buried his face in the dog’s fur and knew he could never let go. He and Bertram were a team. They would find a way through, together.
Bertram licked at the salt running dow
