The afternoon was quiet, the sun warm on the porch. Little Kaka sat peacefully in his basket, wrapped in a soft towel, sucking on his fingers and watching the leaves flutter in the breeze.
But then… the barking started.
“WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!”
Kaka froze. His eyes widened, ears perked. His tiny chest rose quickly as panic took over. Somewhere beyond the gate, dogs were barking loudly—fierce, fast, and sharp.
To Kaka, those sounds weren’t just noise. They were danger.
In the wild, barking meant a predator nearby. Even though he was now safe in a home, his instincts told him to run, to hide, to scream for help.
And scream he did.
“EEEEHHH!! EHHHH!!”
Tears burst from his eyes as he scrambled to the edge of his basket, reaching out his arms in desperate fear. His voice cracked with every cry. His tiny body trembled.
Mom came rushing in.
“Kaka! Oh baby, it’s okay—it’s just the neighbor’s dogs.”
But Kaka didn’t understand words. He only understood fear. He clung to her shirt, burying his face in her chest, still whimpering with every breath.
Mom rocked him gently, stroking his soft fur. She closed the door to muffle the barking, whispered calming words, and kissed his head.
“It’s okay now, sweet boy. I’ve got you. No one will hurt you here.”
Slowly, Kaka’s cries softened into sniffles. His grip loosened. His breathing calmed. With Mom’s arms wrapped around him, he began to feel safe again.
The dogs still barked, but they were far away now.
And Kaka—safe, warm, and loved—closed his eyes and finally rested.
