Mojo and the Mess

Hi. It’s me. Mojo.

Mom’s really sick today — like the kind of sick where she can’t even get out of bed. So I’m in charge. Again.

Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.

I know how to lay perfectly still next to her, nose tucked under her arm, just close enough so she can feel me breathing. I keep an eye on her meds, the water cup, and the snacks she never eats but always insists on having “just in case.”

Every few hours, I do patrols — living room, kitchen, hallway, back to the bed. Gotta make sure no intruders (or squirrels) get any ideas. It’s a lot of responsibility, but someone’s gotta do it.

Mom keeps saying sorry — sorry she can’t play, sorry she’s not up, sorry for being sick. But I don’t need her to be sorry. I just need her here. Even when she’s too tired to move, she’s still my person.

When the world feels quiet like this, I can tell she’s fighting something big. I can’t fix it, but I can keep watch.

That’s my job.

So if you see her page go quiet for a bit, don’t worry. She’s resting. I’ve got it covered.

I’ll let her know you’re all thinking of her.

Now excuse me — it’s time for another round of laying very dramatically on her feet. That’s part of the healing process.

Love,

Mojo 🐾