Every Saturday morning, Daniel held his son’s small hand as they walked through the zoo gates. The routine had become sacred in their lives, a pocket of calm where the week’s worries faded into the background.
They always passed the small pack of strays that lingered near the service gates, mutts the keepers sometimes tossed scraps to when no visitors were looking. Noah often slowed to watch them, curious, but Daniel would give a gentle tug and remind him, “Come on, champ. I know where you really want to be.”