The morning sun spilled softly across the small house, touching the walls with warmth and hope. Inside, Mom sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting gently on her stomach, the other pressing a phone to her ear. Her voice was calm, but there was a trace of worry hidden beneath it. The doctor had asked her to come in today—nothing too serious, he said—but as a mother, even the smallest concern could feel heavy. She glanced toward the doorway where Cutis stood, alert and observant as always, his bright eyes following every movement.
Cutis wasn’t just any ordinary companion. He was smart, thoughtful, and unusually attentive to the emotions of those around him. When Mom ended the call, Cutis tilted his head, sensing something was different. Mom smiled at him and said softly, “I need to go to the doctor today, Cutis. Yen Nhi will still be at school when I leave.” Her voice carried a mix of reassurance and uncertainty.
At the mention of Yen Nhi’s name, Cutis straightened up. Yen Nhi was his favorite person in the world—his little sister in spirit, his best friend in laughter, and his responsibility in his heart. Every morning, he watched her tie her shoes, listened to her chatter about school, and waited patiently by the door when she left. The idea that Mom wouldn’t be there to pick her up stirred something serious inside him.
Mom sighed gently. “I don’t know how I’ll manage everything today,” she murmured more to herself than to Cutis. But Cutis heard her. He always did.
As Mom prepared to leave for the doctor, she double-checked everything—her bag, the house keys, and a note on the table reminding herself of Yen Nhi’s school dismissal time. Cutis watched closely, his mind quietly working. When Mom finally stood at the door, she knelt down and hugged Cutis tightly. “Be good, okay?” she said, brushing her fingers through his fur. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The door closed softly behind her, leaving the house unusually quiet.
Cutis didn’t waste time. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then looked toward the road outside. He knew Yen Nhi’s school schedule by heart. He knew the path, the turns, the smells, the sounds. Most importantly, he knew that Yen Nhi should never be left waiting alone.
With determination shining in his eyes, Cutis made a decision.
The walk to the school was filled with familiar sights. Vendors setting up their stalls, children laughing as they passed, and birds hopping along the roadside. Cutis moved with purpose, not rushing, but not slowing either. People noticed him as he passed. Some smiled, some whispered, and others pointed in surprise. “Where is he going all alone?” they wondered.
But Cutis knew exactly where he was going.
At the school gate, the bell rang, releasing a wave of children spilling into the yard like colorful butterflies. Parents waited outside, calling names, waving, smiling. Yen Nhi stepped out, her backpack bouncing lightly against her shoulders. She scanned the crowd, her smile slowly fading when she didn’t see Mom.
Just as a small frown began to form, a familiar figure appeared.
“Cutis!” Yen Nhi exclaimed, her face lighting up like the sun breaking through clouds. She ran toward him, kneeling down to wrap her arms around his neck. “You came to get me?” Her voice was filled with surprise and joy.
Cutis wagged happily, standing tall and proud. He gently nudged her backpack strap, as if to say, Of course. I’m here.
Other parents stopped to watch the scene, their expressions softening. Some laughed quietly, others reached for their phones to capture the moment. It wasn’t every day you saw such loyalty and intelligence wrapped in such cuteness.
Yen Nhi stood up, holding Cutis’s hand—yes, his hand—and said confidently, “Let’s go home.” Cutis stayed close, positioning himself between Yen Nhi and the road, watching every passing vehicle, every unfamiliar sound. He matched her pace perfectly, slowing when she slowed, stopping when she stopped.
On the way home, Yen Nhi talked nonstop. She told Cutis about her day—how she answered a question correctly, how her friend shared snacks, how she drew a picture of her family. Cutis listened quietly, occasionally glancing at her face, as if memorizing every word.
When they reached home, Yen Nhi opened the door carefully, just as Mom had taught her. Inside, the house felt safe again. Yen Nhi placed her backpack down and turned to Cutis. “Thank you,” she said softly, hugging him tight. “You’re so smart.”
Cutis sat beside her, calm and content, knowing he had done exactly what was needed.
Later that afternoon, the door opened again. Mom stepped inside, looking tired but relieved. “I’m home,” she called out.
Yen Nhi ran to her immediately. “Mom! Cutis picked me up from school!” she exclaimed, excitement bubbling over. “He came all by himself!”
Mom froze, then looked at Cutis in disbelief. “Is that true?” she asked softly.
Cutis sat up straight, his eyes gentle but proud.
Mom knelt down, tears welling up as she wrapped her arms around both of them. “Oh, Cutis,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “You took care of my baby when I couldn’t.”
That evening, the house was filled with warmth. They ate dinner together, Yen Nhi happily recounting the story again and again. Mom listened, her heart full, her worries eased. Every now and then, she reached out to touch Cutis’s head, as if to reassure herself that he was really there.
As night fell, Yen Nhi curled up beside Cutis, her head resting against him. “You’re my hero,” she murmured sleepily.
Cutis closed his eyes, his breathing slow and steady. He didn’t need praise or rewards. All he needed was to know that the people he loved were safe.
Outside, the world grew quiet. Inside, a simple story of love, responsibility, and intelligence lingered in the air—a reminder that sometimes, the purest care comes from the most unexpected hearts.
And on that day, when Mom had to go to the doctor, a smart and loving Cutis stepped up, proving once again that family isn’t just about blood—it’s about devotion, courage, and a heart big enough to care.
