The scent of damp earth and pine needles clung to my childhood like a second skin. I wasn't born into a bustling city, surrounded by concrete and the relentless hum of traffic. My world was the whispering woods bordering our family’s small farmhouse nestled deep within the Appalachian Mountains. My earliest memories are a tapestry woven from the rustle of leaves, the chirping of crickets, and the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Animals weren't just creatures in textbooks or fleeting glimpses at a zoo; they were my companions, my teachers, my silent confidantes.