😲 That evening started quietly—until Lili’s voice rang from the living room:

— Mom! She has something in her mouth again!

I froze.

— Who?

— Marsa! A puppy! Another one!

I ran to the window and couldn’t believe my eyes: my tabby cat, Marsa, was carrying a tiny black puppy across the yard. In the basket inside, four more lay huddled together, eyes closed, warm and soft. Marsa gently placed the new one with them, curling around them protectively.

Where was she finding these puppies—and why was she bringing them here?

Later, a loud knock rattled the door. Lili clung to me as I opened it. A policeman and our neighbor Mrs. Miller stood there, her face stormy.

— Do you have a cat? — the officer asked.

— Yes… — I replied, uneasy.

— You’d better sit down.

My heart raced as I sank onto the sofa. Marsa, sensing something, walked forward and stared at the policeman with her unblinking green eyes.

— This morning, a deserted doghouse was found in the neighbor’s yard… the puppies were gone. The owner says your cat carried them away one by one.

My neighbor sighed. — Their mother died this morning. Your Marsa… well, she’s been caring for them.

I looked at Marsa, purring softly, cradling the tiny puppies.

— I think… let them stay with you. It’s better for everyone, — my neighbor said.

Marsa pressed the puppies closer, as if she understood every word.