Our Stories

While the rest of her brothers and sisters wrestled, picked flowers, or played with the toys their parents provided, Clove was busy with her own project. She was digging a hole with her tiny paws, just at the base of the wisteria tree her mother was lounging beneath. She had seen ground squirrels pop up from the earth, and it piqued her interest.

Why did they live in the ground? How far into the ground did they go? Why did they live there instead of in the trees? Did they have to hold their breath when they were down there? How many of them lived in the holes?

Her child-like brain swarmed with questions, and her curiosity led her to dig at the ground where she had seen the squirrels pop up. But given how little she still was, her strength quickly ran out after several minutes of digging and she plopped on the ground with a defeated sigh. She considered taking a nap in the sun, to regain some of her strength so she could try and dig again. But her mother’s voice called out to them, tempting her babies with stories that were something Clove loved to indulge in. With a smile and a wag of her tail, she wobbled over to her mom on tired legs, plopping down in front of her on the soft grass. “I do!” She exclaimed, still wagging her tail and looking up at her mother with her mismatched gaze.

”Speech”