“You did good, Allan,” she said. “Most wouldn’t have gone through the trouble.” Together, they carefully transferred the rabbit and her kits into a more secure transport container. The mother barely reacted, too exhausted to protest. But just before Dana secured the latch, the tiny creature stretched its head forward.
Allan extended a finger instinctively, and to his surprise, the rabbit gave the faintest nibble—gentle, hesitant, but real. He swallowed hard, watching as Dana and her team carried them out into the snowy morning. The house, the clinic, the world outside all felt different now—quieter, but in a way that no longer felt lonely.