a silent hostility I had brushed off as stress. She had guarded me every day of my pregnancy, warning me in the only way she could.
Those growls, those moments when she stood between us, the way she barked when he reached for me — they weren’t jealousy. They were protection.
She had felt what I couldn’t see.
When I looked at her now, lying beside my baby, her eyes calm and steady, I understood the depth of her loyalty. She hadn’t just been my dog — she had been my protector,
