Amy

As I wrapped up my statement, my mom interrupted. "The sitter called. Dakota's not feeling well. Can you go pick her up?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm done here anyways," I reply, grabbing my jacket and keys.

As I'm about to head out, Deputy Marshall raises an eyebrow, "Sitter? Do you have a kid?" He asks, clearly surprised.

I don't even bother waiting for his judgment, "yes, I have a three-year-old. And before you say anything, yes, I had her when I was fifteen," I say, preempting his criticism.

I watch as he glances at my hand as if looking for a ring that is not there. "What about the father?" He asks hesitantly. What is that expression? Is he jealous, or is it rage? Why would he show any emotion at the mention of my daughter's father? #notmyproble #jealousmuch

"He's not in the picture," I reply, not missing a beat. And my tone made it clear I had no interest in discussing it further.

"Impressive! How do you manage everything on your own? My wife made me hire a nanny and a housekeeper. Even then, we often eat out more than in." he remarks.

"Sorry, I have to go. If you need further assistance, let me know, and I'll be happy to stop by the station to help." I say, hurrying out the door to my daughter.

Making my way to Dakota, I feel content with how the day unfolded. I am pleased the pony is now at its new and improved home.

Additionally, I facilitated five successful adoptions, which means five fewer animals at risk of euthanasia this week.

I couldn't believe it when Deputy Marshall complimented my work with the pony's owner. It was the confidence boost I needed since losing my case. I doubted I had what it would take to be in law enforcement. His compliment was like a rainbow after a storm, and I felt a sense of pride swell up inside me.

It's amazing how one positive comment can change your perspective on everything. Suddenly, I had a renewed sense of purpose and felt I could take on the world. Then my traitorous brain switched to how Deputy Marshall looked.

Oh boy, let me tell you. His eyes are the definition of the killer. They're a mesmerizing hazel color that can stop traffic. And his hair? Don't even get me started. It's cust in the perfect military style that screams, "I'm in charge." And my brain says, "I've been a bad girl. Handcuff me, please!"

I have daydreamed about running my finger through his hair in a more intimate setting. But I'm not about to become a homewrecker. So I'll just have to settle for admiring him from afar. A girl can dream, right?

As I arrived at the sitter's place, I noticed Dakota was acting uneasy, tugging at her ear ad whimpering. My heart sank, suspecting an ear infection. I contacted the Pediatricians's Office without hesitation, and they accommodated us. Hours passed as we waited anxiously for confirmation, and finally, the diagnosis was confirmed, and a prescription for antibiotics was given.

As the day drew to a close, my thoughts were consumed with the hope that tonight would be uneventful. The idea of a sudden emergency filled me with dread. Upon arriving home, I found Dakota fast asleep in her little seat. Before heading to the barn to tend to the horses, I asked my dad to keep an eye on her. He readily agreed, and I went to the stables, still hoping for a peaceful and mundane night.

The time I spent at the barn they were allowed me to decompress after a long day. Although my siblings are mildly interested in horses, my connection with these majestic creatures is far more profound. Despite the considerable responsibilities of being a parent and a horse owner, I find solace in caring for them. This routine helps me transition from work mode to being fully present for my daughter.

As soon as I enter the house, I notice my dad lying on the couch with Dakota on his chest. Both are fast asleep, and I can't help but smile a the sight. I grab my phone and take a quick photo to cherish this moment forever. It reminds me of the importance of family. I can't help but think of the conversations between my mom, sister, and grandmother. They're constantly nagging me to find a man to be a father to Dakota. However, I know she already had the best father figure she could have, mine. Their bond is irreplaceable, and nothing can compare to his love for his granddaughter.

Let me tell you about my recent conversation with my sister. We disagreed about my love life. She suggested I use dating sites to find a suitable man, but I sensed ulterior notices. She probably wants me to find someone so she doesn't have to hear my mom talk about my nonexistent love life at every family dinner. Or maybe she wants to live vicariously through my romantic endeavors. Who knows?

But the real clicker was when she suggested I ask for truck pictures in my profile. Yes, you heard that right—truck pictures. According to her, it's essential for any girl who loves horses to have a decent truck. I'm not sure having a car is the key to finding the love of your life, but what do I know? I'm single. And besides, what would you say? "Hey, potential love interest, I'm looking for someone into horses and trucks. If you don't fit that criteria, sorry, but we can't be together." Yeah, not the most romantic vibe.

No one seems to see I have no way to make room for a relationship in my already hectic life. My job requires me to be available around the clock, and what's left of my attention is devoted to Dakota, my Rottweiler, and horses. Adding another person to the mix seems overwhelming, and I am content with my single status, and my priority will always be Dakota and my critters.

Mom should be home from the animal shelter soon, so I prepare dinner. I know she'll be exhausted. This is one less thing for her to worry about. As I fish, she walks in, and I inform her of Dakota's ear infection. Concern creases on her face, but I assure her it's being taken care of. I go make a phone call to get my grandmother to watch Dakota tomorrow.

After making arrangements for Dakota's care tomorrow, I feel relieved to have a backup plan for my sitter. I wish they would accept payment when they watch her, but they don't. I simply smile and leave money on the table as I go with Dakota. I am grateful to have such a sound support system for Dakota.

I rouse Dakota from her slumber and set her up to eat. This girl is a chatterbox, eager to hear about the animals at work and ask a million questions. Her enthusiasm for animals warms my heart. But looking at her, I realize how fast three years flew by, and I feel a pang of apprehension at the thought of her growing up too quickly. Time is a precious commodity, and I vow to savor every moment with my little girl.

I began thinking about my childhood and how unique it was. As the middle child, I learned to be independent from a young age. My sister was the oldest and spent most of her time with our grandparents. My brother was born soon after me, and my mother has her hands full caring for him. Although it was challenging at times, I am grateful for the experiences because they made me the strong and self-sufficient person I am today. I hold no ill feelings toward my family; it was simply how things were, and I learned to make the best of it.

My mother loves to tell the story of my independentness, which began at the ripe old age of two years. My mom was busy, and I wanted to ride my pony. She told me I had to wait, as she had more pressing matters to deal with then. I took matters into my own hands and went and got my pony by myself. I struggled with the tack but managed to get it in place. Then eventually got my mom to tighten my saddle and rode off by myself. My love for horseback riding back becoming my passion at a young age. And the horses in my life are my most cherished memories.

One of those moments I recall was of riding my horse back toward our woods. I was riding bareback when my horse became anxious and jumpy. I scanned my surroundings, looking for something that may scare her but saw nothing. However, when I glanced straight down at the ground, I saw a huge footprint. Immediately my horse made a frantic dash back to the barn.

"Dad, there's a bear in the woods," I said as I tried to settle my horse.

"Stop running that horse back to the barn." My dad yelled from the porch.

"But there's a bear, Dad," I replied.

"Don't be silly. There's no bear in our woods." He said dismissively.

"I'm not lying, Dad. I saw the footprint. Come look, I'll show you." I said, frustrated and scared.

I begged my dad to come back to the woods with me to see the footprint, but he insisted that there weren't any bears in our area. I was disappointed but trusted my dad and moved on to other things.

One day though, I was vindicated. I was playing outside when I heard my Dad's voice yelling from the barn's direction. He yelled for my mom to bring the gun. There was a barn back by the woods. Yeah, you know I had to rub that in.

I shouted at my Dad, "I told you there was a bear back in the woods." he yelled at me to go inside as he grabbed the gun from Mom and headed back toward the barn.

I heard a loud bang as my Dad fired at the bear, but it was already running away, and he missed his shot. We all breathed a sigh of relief when the bear was out of sight, but I couldn't help feeling satisfied that I had been right all along.

A Few weeks after the encounter, we heard from a neighbor that someone in the area had a pet bear. It was shocking but explained what the bear was headed toward people. However, the Game Warden was now hunting for the bear, and the owners faced consequences for keeping a wild animal as a pet and then releasing it to avoid getting in trouble.

It was a relief to know the bear wouldn't still be wandering around the area, potentially causing harm to people or our horses. We never saw the bear again, but we heard it had been caught and taken to a sanctuary where it would have a safe and more natural environment.

My thoughts were interrupted by Dakota's laughter. I saw she was done eating and wanted to play. At that moment, I realized how much I wanted her to have happy memories to look back on.

I wanted her childhood memories to be filled with love, laughter, and joy. Memories of family vacations, birthday parties, and lazy afternoons spent playing outside-memories of feeling safe and secure, surrounded by those who loved her.

The bear story did happen! Someone tried to keep a bear. It got out and roamed around, making its way to our property—just a little humor from my childhood.