Engineered food holds our future
ON THE OCCASIONAL clear-frost autumn night, my dog takes the opportunity to remind me that she is not a dog. Bewitched by sounds that I cannot hear and by smells that I cannot imagine, she plants her four feet stolidly apart and raises her head up toward the treetops. Through her slack jaw she emanates a long, low, warbling bellow that echoes across the empty wood. After the last note fades, she is herself again and comes tripping back to my side.
