
The Dog Who Lived Nine Lives
Listen to story
May 24, 2026
Stories are AI-generated with editorial curation.

Listen to story
May 24, 2026
Stories are AI-generated with editorial curation.

Little Maja ran to her grandpa Otto's workshop every day after school. She loved watching his skilled hands turn pieces of wood into beautiful, functional objects. One rainy afternoon, as the rain drummed on the tin roof of the workshop, Maja noticed something intriguing. Otto was sitting in his chair, with Jole, their loyal dog, lying on the floor beside him, while Loli, their cat, sat on the windowsill, observing the outside world. “Grandpa Otto,” Maja asked, “can you tell me a story?” Otto smiled, wiped his hands on his apron, and sat down beside her. “Of course, Maja. Do you know the story of the old potter and his cracked pot?” Maja raised her eyebrows curiously, and Otto continued...

When Vito was three years old, he noticed that the Moon had a hole. At least it seemed that way — every night the Moon looked smaller and smaller, as if someone was taking bites out of it. "Mama, the Moon is breaking!" he shouted one night. Mama laughed. "Those are just phases, Vito. The Moon isn't breaking." But Vito wasn't convinced. He packed glue, tape, cloth, and a flashlight into a small backpack. "I'm going to fix the Moon," he declared. His father, sitting in the living room reading the newspaper, lowered his glasses and looked at his son. Most parents would have said, "Don't be silly," or "Go to sleep." But Vito's father wasn't like most parents. "Alright," he said. "But you'll need help. I know someone who tried the same thing once." Vito looked at him with wide eyes. "Who?" "Me. When I was your age, I wanted to fix something that couldn't be fixed. Come, I'll tell you what happened..."

In the backyard lay a broken swing, and Dundo and Pino were getting ready to fix it. Little Vito sat on the grass, holding a box of screws, while Jole sniffed around, eagerly waiting for his chance to help. "How are we going to fix this, Dad?" Pino asked, as Eva watched and smiled from the window.

In the basement of an old building in the square, there was a library that wasn't on any map. It had no sign, no opening hours, and the doors opened only for some. Hana stumbled upon it by chance, escaping the rain. She descended the wet steps, pushed the heavy wooden door, and entered a room filled with books from floor to ceiling. It smelled of old paper, wood, and something sweet—like honey mixed with dust. At the table sat Helena, Eva's sister, wearing a smile that promised adventures. Loli, the family cat, curled up on a shelf, watching Hana with her green eyes. "Go ahead, but don't choose," Helena said, without lifting her gaze from the book in her hands. "What?" Hana was puzzled. "In this library, you don't choose books. Books choose you."