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Anyone else. Absolutely anyone else, who would approach her like she just had, would have lost their very nose. However this wasn’t anyone else. This was Mama Rose. Her mom. Who took her in, gave her food and shelter. They shared no blood and yet, she was treated so well by the older. Cypress knew she was lucky, and sometimes she wanted to let her know that she appreciated everything she has done for her.

Cypress half-smiled with a piece of food hanging from her mouth. The motherly affection she was showered with was nice. She was starting to learn to expect it more and more with each passing day. Never was she harsh, angry or dissatisfied with her as her daughter.

Patient. Kind. Loving.

These were traits she had never known. But they were something that she clung to.

Anyone else probably would have chased her away, attacked her or even screamed at her for stealing their hard earned hunt. But Mama Rose wasn’t anyone else. She was Mama Rose. Although raised in a pack, like she had been, she had seen and known love her entire life. Now Cypress was being shown that love, the love she never got to know.

Rose was her mom.

Cypress wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Thank you for being my mom.”

—

Some of Cypress’ thoughts towards Rose, on Mothers Day.

Not all are lucky. But Cypress knows she is beyond lucky to have been found by Rose.

Cypress © Me
Rose ©

Description

Anyone else. Absolutely anyone else, who would approach her like she just had, would have lost their very nose. However this wasn’t anyone else. This was Mama Rose. Her mom. Who took her in, gave her food and shelter. They shared no blood and yet, she was treated so well by the older. Cypress knew she was lucky, and sometimes she wanted to let her know that she appreciated everything she has done for her.

Cypress half-smiled with a piece of food hanging from her mouth. The motherly affection she was showered with was nice. She was starting to learn to expect it more and more with each passing day. Never was she harsh, angry or dissatisfied with her as her daughter.

Patient. Kind. Loving.

These were traits she had never known. But they were something that she clung to.

Anyone else probably would have chased her away, attacked her or even screamed at her for stealing their hard earned hunt. But Mama Rose wasn’t anyone else. She was Mama Rose. Although raised in a pack, like she had been, she had seen and known love her entire life. Now Cypress was being shown that love, the love she never got to know.

Rose was her mom.

Cypress wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Thank you for being my mom.”

—

Some of Cypress’ thoughts towards Rose, on Mothers Day.

Not all are lucky. But Cypress knows she is beyond lucky to have been found by Rose.

Cypress © Me
Rose ©