Wednesday, April 22, 2026

Bijou

 

Bijou knew something was wrong. He watched me closely, his soft eyes steady, as if he could feel the shift in the room. Without any prompting, he came and sat beside me, placing his tiny paw gently on my arm. 
When I cried, he didn’t pull away—his quiet purr was soft and comforting, like a steady hand. In that moment, he was not just near me, but truly present, understanding my mood and caring in the only way he could. 
When I finally calmed, he snuggled close, gave me a few gentle head butts, and then, satisfied I was alright, returned to his favorite box.
Georgia

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