Once inside, Jeremy placed the dog gently on a thick blanket near the fireplace. He wrapped it snugly in another warm layer, whispering softly, “You’re safe now… you did the right thing.” The dog’s breathing remained shallow, but the rhythmic crackle of the fire and the warmth surrounding it seemed to ease its tension ever so slightly.
Jeremy’s gaze kept darting to the owlets in their box. They were huddled together, fluffed up against the heat, eyes half-closed but slowly gaining strength. Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by worry—he couldn’t help but feel the enormity of what the dog had done for these tiny creatures.
He fetched a bowl of lukewarm water and some soft food, placing it near the dog’s head. Hesitant at first, the dog sniffed, then lapped carefully, encouraged by Jeremy’s quiet presence. Bit by bit, its strength returned, each breath deeper, each movement a little less strained.
Jeremy stayed by the fire all night, gently stroking the dog’s fur and speaking in low, comforting tones. Outside, the snowstorm raged, but inside, there was a fragile sense of safety. The dog had protected the owlets at great personal cost, and now, together, they were all surviving the night.
By morning, the storm had begun to ease. The dog stirred more fully, lifting its head to glance at the owlets nestled nearby. Jeremy allowed himself a small smile. He knew the journey wasn’t over—he would have to care for all three—but for now, in the warm glow of his living room, they were alive. Safe. And together.