Part 3
Army life means one thing is certain: change. Married life, having children, orders come, and you pack up your life — sometimes with little warning. When it was time for me & the family to Permanent Change of Station (PCS), and I/we faced our first big milestone together: moving.
Traveling with a pet is never simple, but traveling as a young soldier, wife and mother, with Tricky who thought every box was her new kingdom? That was a comedy act on its own. She inspected every duffel bag, curled up inside my helmet, and claimed the cat carrier as her royal throne.
Flying with her was another story. She cried the entire time we were in the airport, only to curl up and sleep the moment we were airborne. Strangers passing by would smile and whisper, “That one’s spoiled already.” And they weren’t wrong. She did way better than my children.
What amazed me was her resilience. No matter where we landed — new apartment, new post, new smells — she explored, conquered, and made herself at home within hours. I quickly realized she wasn’t just following me from duty station to duty station. She was teaching me something important: home isn’t a place. Home is who you come back to.
As she grew, so did our list of milestones. Her first vet checks overseas. Her first taste of fresh fish from a local market. The first time she caught a bug midair (and strutted around like she’d won a medal). Each moment was small, but together they stitched a fabric of memories that became my comfort through every transition.
Through every move, every box, every strange new bed, Tricky was mine and the children’s safe haven. No matter where we were Tricky was home with us.
To be continued…
