Bessie squeaks and squirms, tiny hands tugging at her mother’s fur as hunger turns into frustration. Mom sits nearby, distracted, grooming herself and glancing away, missing the urgent cues. Bessie’s cries rise, sharp and pleading, then soften into pouty huffs when she pauses to catch her breath. She stamps her feet, frowns, and tries again, determined to be seen. The moment stretches, heavy with need and misunderstanding. Finally, Mom looks down, surprised, and gathers Bessie close. The anger melts into relief as nursing begins, warmth restoring calm, trust, and sleepy peace for her, their bond shining brighter than before today.