I believe that some meet might change the course of a defined fate, but unfortunately not this one.

It happened when we were having our after-meal walk. Walk my boy was just another routine of my daily life, and certainly I was not prepared for anything other than the normality.

It came out of blue when we were stopped by a strange old man. “Pu.. in the box.” He murmured something like that.

“What?” I looked puzzled at him, not sure what he’s talking about.

“Pu…box.” He said again, but his words were still too vague and strange to be understood.

 I took my son away and tried to shake away a creepy feeling.

Then I saw a shoe box lying on the bridge. And an idea struck me: "Puppy in the box?”

I reached for the box, hesitated a moment, and opened.

Then I saw them: Two tiny black creatures cuddled together, shivering and moaning barely audible sounds. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do except staring at them.

I’ve never seen anything so miserably helpless. Stirred a little by the change of the surroundings, they sent out another low moan but they were too afraid to move, so they remained clinging to each other, as if by this gesture, they could withdraw as much strengths as they could. However, all the strengths they could gather from their tiny bodies were still too trivial to help them against the whole world: the coldness, the cruel fate of being abandoned. But what could they do when all the warmth they could get was the other's body heat?  So they kept cuddling together, desperately.

“What are they?” my son asked in whisper.

“Puppies, dear.” I answered, also in whisper, afraid that a louder voice might scare them even more.

“Oh, but they don’t look like puppies, they look like mice.” I heard my son said.

Yes, they were so tiny, even smaller than my palm. I couldn’t find their eyes---are they too young to open their eyes or are they born blind? I recoiled from this idea. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand up.

I know nothing about puppies, but it doesn’t need an expert to tell that they were just born and the odds for them to survive were very slim.

On an impulse, I wanted to take them home. Hesitated, I took out my cell and dialed a number.

Voice from the other side containing familiar impatience indicated a BIG NO, and No negotiatable---sounded like that I was going to bring home biochemical weapons instead of two harmless tiny creatures. However what prodded me to give up enventually was not his attitude, but lack of confidence. It's the thought that they might die under my watch made me cringed.

Singed, I took my son and left. Sorry, puppies.  You need someone stronger.

One hour later I came back and the box was gone.