Episode 12: Big Transitions, Tall Tales, and Cookie Dough

 

The mission to secure the perimeter had been compromised all week because the core structure of our pack was fractured. Momma wasn't home. She hadn't been pulling her usual long shifts caring for humans, either—she had been locked down in the hospital for a whole week dealing with some scary heart problems. My anxiety levels were at an all-time high, which is exactly why Big Daddy designated me as the official riding shotgun companion when it was finally time to spring her.

We pulled up to the launch pad in the Chariot of the Gods, and the second the door opened and Momma got in, I went into full-blown tactical affection mode. I was climbing all over her, whining, and giving her every ounce of love I had stored up.

"Dewey was very upset that we have not been with him all week, so I had to bring him," Big Daddy explained, adjusting the wheel.

Momma buried her face in my fur, hugging me tight. "I am sure he was. I missed him so much."

Once the initial celebration cooled down, the humans started talking in that serious tone they use when major operational changes are coming.

"Doctor says you need to make some changes," Big Daddy said, keeping his eyes on the road.

Momma let out a heavy sigh. "Ugh, I know. I have another week or two off, then I will feel better."

"He was referring to your diet and not working your body so hard at work—not when you were going back," Big Daddy countered gently. "I wish you could retire."

"I can go part-time in a few years and still keep our insurance," Momma replied, trying to find a compromise.

"We should include planning for that along with the other needed changes," Big Daddy insisted.

The ride home went fast, mostly because the pack was just relieved to be back within our established territory. The second we breached the perimeter, Momma and Big Daddy went straight to the master quarters to recharge their batteries. Molly was incredibly excited to see them too, doing her classic beagle tail-wag before finding a spot to settle in.

Porch Strategy Sessions

After a much-needed family nap, the operational debrief resumed outside. We all moved out to the porch swing to enjoy the cool evening air. The seating arrangement was precise: Big Daddy and Momma were locked close together, I secured the vital middle sector right between them, and Molly took up her defensive post right at their feet.

I listened closely to the word "changes." Personally, I hoped "changes" was code for an immediate increase in daily playtime and a higher frequency of premium marrow bones.

As the swing swayed, Big Daddy and Momma both looked over at the empty handrail. That was Loki’s spot. The place where our fierce, legendary counselor used to perch while keeping guard over the yard. The void he left felt heavy, but it seemed to spark something in Big Daddy’s mind.

"What if we made things more self-sufficient around here?" Big Daddy mused, breaking the silence.

Momma looked over at him, skeptical. "What do you mean? We can barely do what we need to as it is."

"That's what I mean," Big Daddy explained, leaning back. "We can make adjustments in our schedule, habits, and property to help us better manage our time and health while maybe saving some money. Slow changes. A few investments while you are working full-time may help us later on in life."

Momma rocked the swing slightly. "What slow changes are you referring to anyway?"

"I don't know yet exactly, but I'm thinking on it," Big Daddy admitted. "I do know if we can lower our grocery bill and figure out how to get a little more exercise that doesn't make me pass out, that would be a start. Something that would keep our minds and bodies busy without overdoing it."

Momma smiled, shaking her head. "Ok, Ichabod Crane. When you come up with something, let me know."

"Ichabod Crane?" Big Daddy asked, confused.

CRANE?! My ears went into full radar alert. Did someone just say there was a giant, long-legged invading bird in our airspace?!

I launched myself off the porch swing like a rocket, tearing out into the yard and barking at the top of my lungs to neutralize the threat. Molly didn't even lift her head from the porch floor; she just watched me sprint past with an expression of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Back on the swing, Momma laughed. "Yeah, Ichabod Crane. Because he was always fainting."

"Oh, yeah," Big Daddy mumbled, sounding a little disappointed. "I was hoping you were referring to my height and stature."

Momma snorted. "Tall and lanky? I think not. More like Homer Simpson."

Big Daddy groaned. "D'oh!"

Down on the porch floor, Molly’s ears suddenly perked up. Her eyes snapped wide open as she looked around the deck.

"Did someone say cookie dough?" she grumbled.

Episode 11: The Quiet After the Prowl: Saying Goodbye to a Legend

 

The dirt felt heavy under the evergreens in the backyard. Our whole pack stood there together—me, Molly, Momma, Kaitlyn, and Big Daddy. We had just finished covering up Loki in his final resting place, and the air felt entirely too quiet. Loki was the undisputed king of the yard, and losing him left a massive void.

As we turned to walk away from the trees, everyone was visibly upset. To break the heavy silence, Big Daddy started talking about the time Loki absolutely surprised us by bringing a whole rabbit right into the house.

Momma shuddered, still looking a little grossed out just remembering it. "Oh, don't remind me!" she said.

But that was just Loki. He was our hunter and our protector, and bringing home trophies was his way of showing he was on the job. We all walked back toward the house enjoying the memory, but the big question hung in the air: what were we going to do now without our lookout?

Big Daddy shook his head firmly. "No more cats, Momma. We could never replace that boy."

"Yes, you're right," Momma sighed, looking out over the empty yard. "But..."

"No buts," Big Daddy cut in gently. "You can't replace Loki. Besides, I don't even like cats. He was just special."

We all needed a change of scenery to clear our heads, so Momma, Big Daddy, and I piled into the Chariot of the Gods and drove down to River Front Park. We stopped by our favorite taco stand, Floy De Mayo, and took our food over to a bench by the water to watch the ducks and the geese.

Big Daddy and Momma sat on the bench, pinching off little pieces of their tortillas to toss to the birds. On any normal day, I would have been straining at the leash, desperate to chase every single duck straight into the river. But today? I was just too upset to care. I didn't even budge. I just watched them float by, feeling the weight of the day.

We sat there in a long moment of silence, listening to the water and the birds.

Finally, Momma broke the quiet. She looked over at Big Daddy and said softly, "Wouldn't a kitten bring some excitement?"

Big Daddy looked back at her, his voice serious but calm. "Momma, I pass out several times a month and go through flare events more often than that. My blood pressure is never low, and neither is my heart rate. I don't need excitement."

Momma nodded slowly, understanding. "You're right, you're right."

She leaned her shoulder against Big Daddy for comfort, and I laid down right at their feet, acting as their warm, furry anchor. We stayed like that for a long pause, just watching the river, until Momma let out a massive sigh.

"But..."

Big Daddy didn't even look up, just watched the water. "No more excitement."