Mo

Ah Gizmo (AKA Mo). When Mya was a baby Mo would lay next to her, lightly sniffing the air that surrounded her. (A direct sniff was a bit to close for comfort) As she would slightly stir or cry he would scowl at her like only a perfectly annoyed dog can do. Eventually if the stirring and crying continued he would scowl at me as a reminder that I brought this person to the house and I need to deal with the situation- the kind of dog look that says "I am losing sleep here -you know."

Times have changed.

My little Mo is turning white. His golden blonde fur giving way to thinning white. Hints of darkening skin peek through here and there. His sweet spirit ever strong and he still waits for me outside the bathroom door. His connection to Mya has evolved from the pest and the aggravated, to a little girl and her faithful companion.

A couple of days ago I was cleaning the kitchen when I called out to check on Mya. From her bedroom Mya informed me that she was playing Barbies with Gizmo. This I had to see. So I round the corner into Myas room, and there they are, sitting atop Myas bed. Mo stacked with a Barbie couch on his back oblivious of my peering. Oddly, he looked genuinely interested in her and her games. I was touched by his acceptance of her. The girl that had shifted his family positioning, stolen his attention, and disturbed his slumber. He races to the door to greet her, though some days he may not be so much as acknowledged.

Yesterday he waited outside her bathroom door.