Trina’s mother is going to be angry when she finds them. Jax knows this, but he doesn’t stop the young girl.
She just turned six yesterday. Her parents had thrown her a party–it was mostly family, but a few other little girls in Trina’s class had been invited, too. They had all spent the afternoon outside, running, jumping, yelling. Jax had joined them for most of it, but he’d needed his breaks. He just doesn’t have the same energy he used to.
But today, Trina is calm. Thoughtful, even, as she picks out the exact shade of powder that she wants.
Jax loves days like today. Days when one of his family members focuses solely on him, shows him how much they love him.
But then, he loves the other days, too. Days when his family is busier. Because even when they’re busy, they still take care of him. They don’t hit or kick or scream. They smile, hug, and pet. They love.
Not like his old family. His time in the shelter had been a blessing after them.
Trina smiles as she pops open one of the powders. Eye shadow, Jax thinks. He can’t tell what colour it is; he just knows that it’ll stand out against his white fur. Just like all of the others that she’s spread over his snout, eyes, and ears.
Jax could stop her. He could bark or growl or bite. But he doesn’t.
Because she loves him.