The Unexpected Find
It started with a bark.
Not the kind of bark that meant “someone’s at the door” or “a squirrel’s in the yard,” but a deep, urgent, almost frantic sound—the kind that said something was wrong.
It was early morning, still damp with dew, when Emma took her dog, Leo, on their usual walk through the wooded edge of their property near the forest preserve. The golden retriever had always been curious, sticking his nose in burrows and chasing butterflies, but this time, something pulled him in another direction. He bolted off the trail without warning, tail stiff, nose twitching.
“Leo!” Emma called, jogging after him.
He didn’t come.
Instead, he whined—then barked again. Low and sharp.
