A New Day Dawns

The first sliver of sun, a shy, golden peek over the tallest, leafiest trees, tickled Tiggy’s nose. It was a gentle tickle, not like the rough-and-tumble tickles his mama sometimes gave him, but a soft, warm invitation to wakefulness. He wiggled his little striped toes, then stretched his front paws out long, long, long, until his shoulder blades felt like they were reaching for the sky. He yawned a big, wide yawn, showing off his tiny, sharp baby teeth, and let out a little rumble that was more purr than roar.

Last night’s worries about naps seemed to have melted away with the darkness. He remembered Mama’s soft fur, the steady thump-thump of her heart against his cheek, and the feeling of being utterly safe and loved. He remembered her words, too, about how naps were like a secret power-up for tigers, making them strong and bouncy for playing. And you know what? He *did* feel bouncy! He felt ready for anything.

He hopped off Mama’s warm side, giving her a gentle nudge with his nose. Mama stirred, a low, rumbling sigh escaping her. “Good morning, my little sunbeam,” she murmured, her eyes still half-closed.