Then, slowly, gently, she brushed her nose against him. The puppy blinked, uncertain. Then—he licked her whiskers. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Did you see that?” “Is she… playing?” Jamie blinked hard. “She’s not hurting him,” he said. “She’s… saying hello.”
Asha, the lead zookeeper, arrived on the scene. Her radio crackled. “What’s our call?” someone asked. “Do we intervene?” Asha watched for ten long seconds. “Hold position,” she said. “Nobody moves unless Meera does.” Then, softer, to herself: “Let’s see what she’s trying to say.”
Jamie finally managed to pull away from the grip holding him. He ran up beside Asha. “Please,” he said. “That’s my puppy.” Asha placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know,” she said, eyes still locked on the enclosure. “And right now… I think he’s her puppy too.”
Meera circled the puppy once, then lay down beside him. Her movements were slow and controlled, like she didn’t want to startle him. Nibbles wagged his tail again and nestled against her flank, tiny and warm. The crowd behind Jamie stood frozen, phones forgotten in their hands.