It was just after dawn when Bibi walked into the room and noticed it—the damp patch on Lala’s bed, the lingering smell, and the way Lala sat in the corner, eyes lowered, ears drooping.
“Oh no…” Bibi froze.
She didn’t know what to say. She loved Lala, but this? It caught her off guard. The first instinct was frustration—was it her fault? Was Lala sick? Had someone forgotten to take her out before bedtime?
Lala looked up at Bibi, guilt clouding her usual sparkle. She didn’t move. She didn’t make a sound.
Bibi sighed, her emotions swirling—part worry, part disappointment, part confusion. She wanted to do the right thing, but didn’t know how. She stood there for a moment too long, unsure of what to say or do.
Then, something softened inside her.
Lala was clearly already ashamed. This wasn’t misbehavior—it was an accident. A moment of vulnerability. And right now, she needed kindness, not punishment.
Bibi slowly walked over, knelt down, and reached out her hand.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, gently stroking Lala’s head. “You didn’t mean to.”
Lala leaned into her touch, just barely, and let out a quiet sigh.
Bibi carefully stripped the bed, wiped down the floor, and laid out a clean blanket. She brought over a bowl of fresh water and placed a warm towel over Lala’s back.
“You’re still my good girl,” she said, her voice calmer now.
It wasn’t easy at first—but in choosing compassion, Bibi learned that love isn’t always about having perfect reactions. Sometimes, it’s about pausing, understanding, and growing in the moments that challenge you.
And as Lala curled back into her clean bed, eyes closing slowly, Bibi sat beside her—learning what real care truly meant.
