This reminded me of something I wrote many, many years ago, when I was living in another place, which I have gone to look up.
Every year a pair of doves nests in our camelia. (I like to think it’s the same pair, though I know that’s probably not the case, just me being fanciful and García Márquez-ish.) Nonetheless every year Pepita hears the birds, discovers the nest, and joyfully devours the eggs. Since last summer, however, she has grown deaf and so this year she never found them. They were able to hatch and mature and finally fly away, this year’s brood of nestlings, because my dog is fading. What an odd, odd silver lining.
Pepita was a brilliant dog who lived without shame and was gone two months after I wrote that.
Perhaps someone’s cat is taking Sarah’s eggs and perhaps that creature’s life cycle will allow for Sarah to be a mother yet. (I hope so.)