Still, each time Daisy padded across the floor with the cubs tumbling after, Zachary felt hope bloom against his dread. She was disproving the rules of most animal manuals. A dog was raising cubs! Yet beneath that fragile miracle lay a ticking clock he couldn’t ignore. Nature was patient, but not always merciful. The question he had to answer was—when?
Soon, the cubs no longer fit beneath Daisy’s frame. Their paws, once clumsy, carried strength that at times frightened Zachary. He watched them stalk each other across the straw, pouncing with startling speed. Daisy corrected them with gentle snaps, but her size was laughable beside theirs. A misstep could mean disaster.