Well let’s say that’s karma.
You carried Rex back inside as he sobbed against you, traumatized at the sight of the dead fluffy in the bush. It must’ve gotten stuck and died from the cold before strays began picking at its carcass. You did recognize it as Rex’s mother. You were not surprised, however. Feral fluffies did not surprise for long without a herd, especially in winter.
“Mummah! Mummah!” Rex cried out, tears streaming from his eyes.
“It’s OK, Rex,” I coaxed him as I put him down with his toys in his saferoom. I patted his head to calm him down. “How about I make you some sketties now?”
“Sket-sketties?” Rex sniffled.
“Yes, your favorite,” you smile warmly at your fluffy. “And then we’ll play.”
“Yes, pway. And wub and huggies.”
Yes, Rex needed a lot of hugs after this. Hopefully, he would forget this traumatic episode but you would need to call someone to get rid of that fluffy carcass in the bush.
i hope see more stories with rex actually it would be nice to see some kind of precuel about rex’s pink mummah a how she raised him.