I saw it—a pair of glowing eyes staring back at me from the dimness beneath the bed. My heart skipped a beat, and I jerked back, nearly bumping my head on the nightstand. For a moment, I just sat there, pulse racing, trying to process what I had seen.
Murphy remained as motionless as ever, his eyes darting between me and the bed. It was then that I realized he wasn’t afraid; he was alert—a silent, steadfast sentinel in the early morning gloom. His composure gave me just enough courage to take another look.
With my hands gripping the edge of the bed, I leaned down once more, this time prepared for what I might find. Squinting into the shadows, I caught sight of the unmistakable form of a small, fluffy cat. Its eyes, now less menacing and more curious, blinked slowly. The cat—an unexpected intruder in my otherwise dog-dominated household—seemed oddly at ease, as though it had chosen this spot as its refuge for the night.
