A Barrier at the Door
The dog stepped forward, planting himself between Leo’s bed and the door. His ears stood sharp, his body tense, and a deep growl rumbled in his chest.
At first, we thought it was just nerves. Animals pick up on stress, and maybe Rex didn’t understand what was happening.
I knelt down, met his dark eyes, and spoke softly:
“It’s okay, Rex. We’re just here to help Leo.”
But Rex wouldn’t settle. Instead, he became more urgent—barking, whining, and refusing to let anyone move the bed. His gaze was unyielding, almost human, filled with determination.
