After my cat brought home puppies from who knows where a policeman knocked on the door.

I sat down mechanically on the edge of the sofa, feeling the cold mug of tea chilling my fingers.

Lili pressed close to me, and Marsa, as if she understood the conversation was about her,

slowly came out of the kitchen and sat directly in front of the policeman, staring at him with her green, unblinking eyes.

— This morning — he began — a… deserted doghouse was found in the neighboring yard.

The puppies were gone.

— And?… — my voice trembled betraying me.

— The owner claims she saw your cat carrying them away one by one — he paused, as if choosing his words.

The neighbor sighed and, lowering her eyes, said:

Those puppies… are mine. Their mother died this morning. And your Marsa…

I looked in confusion at my cat, who at that moment was softly purring and holding the puppies in her paws.

— I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, she must have behaved that way because we had found other owners for the puppies,

but she still needed to feel like a mother.

I’ll bring them back right now.

The neighbor stood for a moment, looking at the peaceful scene —

Marsa tenderly licking and mothering the puppies — and added:

— Let them stay with you. I think… it’s better for everyone.

I nodded, and Marsa, as if understanding every word, pressed her new little ones even closer to her.