Lately, my energy has been vanishing like socks in the dryer. One minute I’m sitting up, talking, maybe even laughing—and the next, it’s like someone hit an invisible switch and poof… I’m out. Fatigue isn’t just being tired. It’s like gravity triples and every muscle protests just existing.
Mojo has noticed.
From his perspective, it must look like some sort of crime scene. One second, Mom is upright. The next, she’s flat on the couch, under a blanket, eyes closed. So of course, Detective Mojo has taken the case.
Exhibit A: The Couch
“Hmm. She was sitting here five minutes ago with snacks. Now she hasn’t moved in hours. I better glue myself to her side and keep watch. Maybe if I snore extra loud, she’ll copy me.”
Exhibit B: The Bed
“Ah yes, the bed. Prime location for disappearing energy. She gets up to brush her teeth and then… nope. Right back under the covers. Classic. I’ll just wedge myself against her hip so she knows she’s safe. Bonus points if I steal half the pillow.”
Exhibit C: The IV Pole
“I don’t trust this tall, squeaky sidekick. It follows her everywhere, wheels clanking like it owns the place. Pretty suspicious if you ask me. I’d arrest it if I could reach the top. For now, I’ll glare at it and wag my tail like I’m on patrol.”
From where Mojo sits, he doesn’t see fatigue as failure. He doesn’t sigh when I cancel plans. He doesn’t compare today’s energy to yesterday’s. He just accepts it. Mom sleeps. Mojo watches. The world keeps spinning.
Maybe I need that reminder too—that even if my energy disappears, I’m still here. Mojo doesn’t measure my worth in what I can get done. He measures it in cuddles, in closeness, in simply being.
The case of the disappearing energy might remain unsolved, but thanks to my little detective, I never have to face it alone.
💌 Thanks for reading and letting me share both my mess and Mojo’s perspective. If you want to keep following along, don’t forget to subscribe to the blog so you never miss a post.
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