Hi. It’s me, Vixen. I don’t usually tell the serious stories, but this one feels important.
That day felt mostly normal at first. Mom and Dad were watching TV, and I was laying on them doing my thing, which mostly involves staying close to Mom. That’s my job. I take it very seriously.
Then I noticed something I didn’t like. Mom’s arm smelled different. Her glucose monitor was bleeding, and my instincts kicked in right away. I didn’t stare or panic. I leaned in and started licking her arm, over and over, trying to get her attention the only way I knew how.
Mom didn’t notice at first. Humans don’t always. So, I kept going. Gentle, but persistent. I stayed right there, licking her arm and looking at Dad, then back at Mom, making sure someone understood that this mattered.
Eventually, they did.
Things shifted after that. Movements got quicker. Voices changed. I stayed close the whole time, watching carefully. I didn’t need to bark or make noise. I just needed to make sure it wasn’t missed.
When everything settled and Mom was okay, I finally relaxed. I curled up nearby and kept watch, just in case. That’s how I know my work is done. When I can rest, but still listen.
I don’t understand glucose monitors or why Mom’s body does the things it does sometimes. But I understand her. I know when something is off. I know when she needs extra watching.
Mom calls me her support staff. I like that. It sounds important. Because it is.
So, if you ever wonder whether your little companion notices more than you think, trust me. We do. We pay attention. And when something isn’t right, we try our best to tell you.
Love,
Vixen