Watchdog

I hear Ebbs come out from under the bed. She doesn't say a word, yet there's no need to look-I feel her coal-black eyes staring holes into my back.

"Pet me, Mama, pet me!," she screams telepathically, her voice pounding into the corners of my brain.

I turn, rub her ears and step out of bed. She prances joyfully in front of me, noses open the door to the girl's room and hops onto the bed of the sleeping child.

Night watchdog, fresh from her late-night nap and reporting for duty.

Peaceful dreams, my girls.