That day felt different from the moment it started. Dad went to get Mom, and I was with him. I stayed alert the whole time, watching everything, like I didn’t want to miss a single detail. And then I saw her. Mom was there. Really there. I didn’t hesitate for even a second. I climbed right onto her lap, my tail wagging so hard my whole body moved with it, and I stayed there the entire drive home.
It was a long ride, four and a half hours, but I didn’t care. I shifted around a little, gave a few happy wiggles, then settled in like I was anchoring her in place. I listened to her breathing. I felt her warmth. Every mile felt like bringing her closer to where she belonged. I was so excited, but also so relieved, like something tight inside me finally loosened.
When we got home, I couldn’t stop checking on her. I followed her everywhere, tail still wagging, eyes always on her. If she sat down, I was right there. If she stood up, I stood too. I needed to know she was staying, that she wasn’t going to disappear again.
I still keep watch now. I stand at the bathroom door and wait until she comes back out. I pay attention to every little movement, every pause. Humans might call that being protective. I call it love.
That night, I finally slept deeply again. Curled up close, listening to the familiar sounds of home, knowing Mom was safe where I could see her. My heart felt settled for the first time in a long while.
Mom is home. Dad is here. And my job feels clear again.
Love,
Vixen