Little Dody was just a few weeks old, a fluffy ball of innocence with eyes that could melt any heart. Bath time, however, was his greatest enemy. The moment his mom gently placed him into the warm water, Dody’s tiny scream echoed through the room — not angry, just scared, confused, dramatic in the most adorable way. His little hands reached out, shaking, begging to be saved from the terrifying waterfall that was simply… a cup of water.
Mom held him softly, whispering reassurances, but Dody didn’t believe a word. Each drop of water felt like betrayal. He clung to her arm with surprising strength, his tail curling tightly, and whenever water touched his belly he let out another tiny cry, so heartfelt it could make even a stone feel emotional. His big baby eyes stared straight into hers — as if asking, Why, Mom? Why me?
Mom smiled, wiping his wet little face, her patience endless. Slowly, carefully, she rubbed his back, gentle like a feather. The water warmed his tiny body, easing the fear bit by bit. His cries softened into sniffles, then into quiet whimpers. Finally, with his head resting on her palm, Dody surrendered — trusting her warmth more than his fear.
When the bath was done, she wrapped him in a fluffy towel, holding him close. Dody stopped crying instantly, curling up like a newborn wrapped in love. His eyes fluttered peacefully as she kissed his tiny forehead. He looked like a baby angel — a dramatic one, but still precious.
And just like that, the loud screaming turned into sweet silence. Dody wasn’t scared anymore. He was safe, loved, and warm — right where he belonged: in Mom’s arms.
