Wheeling Gull Isle September

He’s caught off guard. Her touch is rarely given, it’s something he understands she’s particular about. His younger siblings have boundaries that the older ones don’t. He stiffens beneath even something so light as the press of her nose, because he understands the importance of it. She must really need him in that moment, before he realizes he must really need her, too.

He leans his own muzzle lightly against her cheek, thinking she must only be upset about her inability to speak and failing to take notice of the turmoil going on all around their island home.

“Did you know Mommy says God speaks to you in another voice? You don’t need to say anything out loud. You can just think it, and he’ll hear you! Look, I’ll try,” He closes his eyes and falls to silence.

Dear God,
Please help my baby sister.
Please listen to her,
even if it’s only the thoughts in her head.
She’s very quiet, but that doesn’t mean she has nothing to say.
Thank you for your abundant care. Amen.

He open his eyes, turning back to his sister. “Do you wanna try a prayer, Ava?”