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."
