It was light brown, with a white chest and prominent ribs. Its paws were covered in mud and one of its ears bore the marks of an old tear. It looked completely exhausted.
Yet, he didn’t take his eyes off his puppy for a single moment.
I stepped out slowly. He only took a step back. He didn’t growl. He didn’t bare his teeth. He didn’t try to run away. He simply watched my every move.
I crouched down and gently picked up the puppy. The dog didn’t flinch. It was surprising. Homeless mothers with puppies are usually instinctively protective of them. She did the exact opposite. She backed away, as if consciously entrusting her child to human hands.
The puppy was shivering with cold. Its wet fur was covered in mud, and its head hung limply on my wrist.
