Jack had been a truck driver for nearly twenty years, and the road had always been his home. But ever since his wife passed, the long stretches of highway felt emptier than ever. That was until he met Buddy.
Buddy was a scrappy little stray, found curled up under Jack’s truck in a rest stop parking lot. The cat was thin, dirty, and had the saddest green eyes Jack had ever seen. He didn’t think twice—he scooped Buddy up, set him on the passenger seat, and from that moment on, they were a team.
At first, Buddy was cautious, unsure of the rumbling machine beneath him. But soon, he claimed his spot—perched on the dashboard, eyes wide as he watched the world pass by. He became Jack’s little assistant, meowing when it was time for a break, pawing at the steering wheel like he had somewhere important to be.
Nights weren’t so lonely anymore. Jack would talk, and Buddy would listen, curling up beside him in the cab. When the weight of grief felt too heavy, a soft purr reminded him he wasn’t alone.
One day, at a gas station, a fellow driver chuckled, “Never seen a cat as a co-pilot before.”
Jack just smiled, scratching Buddy’s chin. “Best one I ever had.”
Because in the endless miles of open road, Buddy wasn’t just a cat. He was family.
