Chapter 7

The next morning Mac's squeaking woke me, and sitting up on the edge of the bed, I pulled loose a cracker from its sleeve. Breaking off a corner, I offered him the treat.

"Here you go, buddy," I murmured, holding out the crumb with two fingers between the bars of his cage.

Mac's tiny nose twitched as he caught the scent of the cracker. With a flick of his tail, he approached my hand cautiously, his tiny paws dancing over the metal mesh. His whiskers brushed against my skin, and for a moment, his beady eyes locked with mine, as if to say, "Thanks."

With a swift snatch, he took the offering, retreating to the safety of his little cardboard house. The crackling of the cracker filled the silence of the room as he nibbled away, his little cheeks bulging with delight.

Mac had always been a creature of habit, and I knew that this morning ritual was as important to him as my first cup of coffee was to me. Each day, I'd wake up to his squeaks, signaling his hunger, and I'd feed him before even