At first glance, my garden looked like it had been raided by a relentless intruder—flattened plants, exposed roots, and half-eaten produce littered the beds. I blamed a hungry raccoon or a cunning squirrel. But when the truth finally came to light, it was something far more touching than I could have imagined.
It all started with a change in Runa, my usually spirited shepherd. After the loss of her recent litter, she had grown quiet and distant. I thought she was simply grieving in her own way when she began wandering off for long periods. Then, one damp afternoon, curiosity got the better of me, and I trailed her through the garden to our old shed.
What I saw left me completely frozen in place. In a cozy bed made from torn burlap sacks were three tiny baby rabbits—warm and safe, thanks to Runa’s watchful care. She had been keeping them alive, sharing her warmth as if they were her own. Close by was the lifeless body of their mother, a gentle creature who had clearly sought refuge in my garden, leaving behind a trail of nibbled greens leading to this quiet sanctuary. What I had mistaken for destruction was the last act of a devoted parent—and the beginning of Runa’s beautiful role as an unexpected guardian.
