When the old keeper forgot one latch, the 400-pound silverback reached through the steel

as a place for enrichment ideas, sketches of puzzle feeders, notes on Winston’s preferences, reminders about which browse he stripped first and which textures annoyed him. By October, it had become something else. The pages were full of small rescues. Names. Sequences. Directions. Linda’s phone number. The word HOME written once at the top of a page continue reading …