The Big Day and a Drawing

The morning of the big day arrived like a shy sunrise, peeking over the horizon with a hesitant glow. Leo’s tummy did a little flip-flop, like a tiny fish doing somersaults. He looked out the window. The sky was a gentle blue, not at all scary. But the hospital… that was a different story. His mind, always a busy place filled with whirring gears and bouncing ideas, started to spin out its usual hospital-daydreams. He pictured nurses wearing giant, fluffy bunny ears and doctors with noses that honked like a clown’s. And the bed! He imagined it would be made of wobbly jelly, bouncing him up to the ceiling every time he tried to lie down.

His mom came into his room, her smile as warm as a freshly baked cookie. "Ready, my brave boy?" she whispered, smoothing his hair. Leo nodded, but his chin wobbled a little. He clutched something tight in his hand. It was a drawing. A very special drawing. He’d made it himself, with bright crayon colors, of Whiskers. Whiskers with his big, round, curious eyes, his long, twitchy whiskers (hence the name, of course!), and a fluffy tail that looked like a dandelion puff. He’d even drawn a little heart above Whiskers’s head.

"Whiskers is going to miss you," his dad said, ruffling Leo’s hair. "He’s probably already wondering where his favorite human has gone."