Whitefish River I'm gonna getcha

"mom!" 
and then suddenly, there she stood. the girl stilled, though her head swing like a sluggish pendulum, held just below her shoulders. "I had to go, mom. I missed you --" muzzle curves into a grin as a glob of drool manages to find its freedom, swinging free from her jowls and meeting the earth. 

she approaches, tail wagging. for a moment, the swaying stops, the moves to plant a kiss on her mother's cheek. for a moment, she feels love. 

and then there stands someone between them, speaking of sickness and leaving. horror, first. denial. then her hackles flair, and her lips curl. "no no no I'm -- still got time! I'm not --" her muzzle begins it's anxious swinging again. "mom! tell him, mom, it's ok." fear, panic, now.