Wheeling Gull Isle dance with me and shake your bones.

The sight of the tiny tot waving her forelegs was endearing, though it also served to remind Towhee that these babies were very young. She could keep little Harley warm but she couldn’t provide food or anything else she needed. Only Heda could.

Heaving onto all fours, Towhee thought about herding the child toward the den but decided to save time by plucking her up by her scruff. She walked the few steps toward the threshold and gently plopped her on the ground, then nosed her bottom toward the interior.

And just in case any of that wasn’t on the pup’s agenda, Towhee stretched out in the den’s mouth like a great, yawning lioness. There was no escape.