Part 1: The Morning My Dog Wouldn’t Stop Scratching at the Door

rise and fall of the kittens’ tiny chests. The silence in the shed didn’t feel heavy the way it did in my house. It wasn’t full of absence.

It was full of presence.

Eventually, I reached out, my movements slow and careful. The mother cat didn’t pull away as I gently stroked her fur. She was warm. Alive. Real.

“You’re safe now,” I murmured, though I wasn’t continue reading …