One night, I woke to my husband, Robert, mumbling in his sleep, “She’s in my garage right now. You can go down and find her there.” His words sent a chill through me. Was there someone in the garage?
Robert had always been dependable, and I couldn’t shake the unease. I quietly went downstairs and found an injured fox curled up in the corner of the garage. My heart raced as I realized Robert had hit it with his car and brought it home to care for.
When I confronted him, he explained that he didn’t want to leave the fox behind, and I reluctantly agreed to help him nurse it back to health. Over the next week, we bonded with the fox, and by the end, it was strong enough to be released back into the wild.
We drove her to a nearby forest and let her go, where she surprisingly nuzzled Robert’s leg before disappearing into the trees. From then on, we visited often, and the fox would greet us, a reminder of the strange night that deepened our bond.
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