We fed it pieces of bread soaked in water until its shrill calls quieted and it fell asleep. We fastened a shoe box full of old scraps of cloth for it to live in. Elena thought we should fill it with grass. I said it was a bad idea. She always looked up to me about these things, even in my uncertainty.
"What do we do now?" Elena asked.
I tried to think. Elena and I were constantly on the move. We didn't have room in our lives for a pet. She'd cry when I told her we couldn't keep it, but even I didn't have the heart to let it die on it's own.
"Let's take it back to the hotel," I said. "I think we can find a rescue or something."
She carried the box as we walked the six blocks back to our room. She never looked away from it once. Watching her, it occurred to me that she'd never had a pet.