Lucky was about to say something about continuing their walk in the morning when he heard a rustling. Ears pricked up, he stalked toward a nearby hedge. Ignoring the sounds of Mickey and the pups as they stirred nearby, Lucky focused on the hedge. He saw a glimpse of a velvety coat.

They would eat tonight after all!

Lucky and Mickey crouched down next to the pups, tearing the vole that Lucky had caught into small chunks. The pups watched, wide-eyed, their tails thrashing in excitement and anticipation. Lucky could taste the warm, tender meat and it was all he could do not to swallow the pieces down.

I had the last rabbit all to myself, he reminded himself sternly. This is for the pups!

First he lowered his head and offered a chunk of the vole to the smallest pup, who eagerly licked Lucky’s muzzle and gobbled up the meat, crunching and gulping it down contentedly. Following Lucky’s lead, Mickey offered some vole to the female, who took it from his jaws, her tail thrashing.

Lucky returned to the vole and took another careful bite, chewing it between his back teeth. The juice ran down his throat, and he could feel his belly opening to accept the delicious food—but, again, he resisted the urge to swallow it down. He approached the larger male, who bound toward him with his tongue lolling. The pup’s suspiciousness seemed to have disappeared as he licked Lucky’s muzzle, receiving the chunk of meat gratefully.

The pup turned to his smaller litter-brother. “It’s your turn,” he told him.

Lucky was touched by how supportive the pups were of one another, and how gently they received the food. As the smallest pup stepped forward, his short tail wagging, Lucky felt a twinge of pain in his chest.

These pups need us. . . . He peered at the surrounding trees. Thank you, Forest-Dog, for delivering this meal, and for saving their lives.

The little pup yelped happily, his body wiggling, rump moving this way and that as he licked Lucky’s muzzle.

The pups finished the vole and curled up together contentedly, washing their paws. Mickey stood over them, stooping to lick their ears. He seemed much more at ease with them now. Lucky looked out into the forest. Even the crows had stopped cawing—it was almost no-sun, and the air thrummed with insects. He turned back to Mickey and the pups.

“There’s something very important that we need to do,” he announced solemnly. Mickey looked worried, until Lucky let his tongue loll playfully for just a moment. The Farm Dog relaxed, wagging his tail. Lucky went on: “We’ll keep moving at sunup, but we really can’t do that unless we find pup names for all of you.”

The puppies looked at one another, then back to Lucky.