After my cat brought home puppies from who knows where, a policeman knocked on the door. His words made my heart stop. That evening had begun so peacefully. I was folding laundry when my daughter, Lili, suddenly shouted from the living room. “Mom! Marsa has something in her mouth again!” I rushed over and froze — our tabby cat was gently carrying a tiny puppy, just like the four sleeping in a cozy basket in the corner. Marsa placed the new one beside the others, warmed them with her body, and purred like she had always belonged to them. I didn’t know where she found them or why she was bringing them home, but the love in her eyes spoke louder than words.
Then came the knock. Firm. Urgent. Lili clung to my arm as I opened the door. A police officer stood there beside our observant neighbor, Mrs. Miller. “Do you have a cat?” he asked calmly. My heart raced. “Yes,” I whispered. He took a breath and motioned gently. “You may want to sit.” The room suddenly felt smaller. My mind imagined every possibility — had something happened? Was Marsa in trouble? All I could do was nod and step aside.
Be First to Comment