On a quiet corner near the old stone walls of Rockfort, a street dog lay hidden beneath a bush. Her belly was swollen with life, and tonight was the night her journey as a mother would begin. The air was heavy with tension as she circled the spot, scraping the dirt to make a small nest. Alone and vulnerable, she let out soft whimpers, calling silently for strength.
Her body tensed as the first contraction came. She pushed with all her might, her paws digging into the ground. After moments that felt like hours, the first tiny puppy slid into the world, weak and shivering. With instinctive love, she licked it clean, nudging it close to her warm body. The little one squeaked, breathing its first breath of life.
But the struggle wasn’t over. One by one, more contractions wracked her tired frame. The second and third puppies followed, each arriving with effort and pain, but welcomed with her tender care. She licked them vigorously, ensuring their tiny lungs filled with air. Soon, three soft cries joined in harmony, breaking the silence of the night.
Finally, after what seemed like her last ounce of strength, the fourth puppy was born. The mother lay still for a moment, exhausted, her chest rising and falling heavily. Then, gathering courage, she pulled the newborn close, her eyes shining with fierce devotion. Four fragile lives now nestled at her side—the Rockfort puppies, born beneath the stars and the sheltering wall.
Passersby who heard the faint cries paused, touched by the sight. Some left scraps of food and a bowl of water nearby, quietly honoring the mother’s courage. Though she was just a street dog to many, that night she was a hero, proving that love and sacrifice exist even in the harshest places.
The Rockfort puppies, born on the rough streets, carried with them a story of survival, hope, and the unbreakable bond of a mother’s love.
