With a soft nicker, Thunder took the lead, turning back toward the path they’d come from. George smiled, balancing the tiny bundles of fur in his arms, following Thunder’s steady pace through the woods. The dog trotted beside him, her gaze never leaving her puppies, as if she too was guiding George back home.
The trek back felt shorter, as if the weight of worry had lifted, leaving George’s steps lighter. Thunder seemed to know the way perfectly, his hooves tapping rhythmically against the ground. The glow of the barn lights in the distance brought a sense of peace to George’s tired heart.