"I will explain this to you two one more time."
The very concerned-parent-bunny faces stared back at her in her phone screen. Judy had made many attempts to explain her very safe partnership with Nick to her parents, yet they (mostly her dad) continued to question it, wondering what details she'd left out and how a fox could possibly, truly be as trustworthy as their daughter claimed. It tested her patience, and Judy wondered if they ever would understand that predators, even foxes, weren't as bad as they thought. It seemed next to impossible to change their minds, but Judy wasn't one to give up because of that.
Inhaling deeply, Judy mentally braced herself for the inevitable comments of opposition before beginning what may have been the tenth retelling of her story.
"I found out that Nick, the fox, knew the missing mammal who I had no other leads on finding," Judy began. Okay, maybe she really did skimp on some details. Her parents didn't need to hear about the naturalist club, for example, which Judy didn't even want to think about in the first place. "He led me to a mammal who happened to see Emmett Otterton leave in a white limousine. Because the yak knew the license plate number, but I couldn't run a plate yet, Nick helped me track down the vehicle as well." Big exhale. Her parents (or dad, rather) would usually butt in around here, so she continued before they'd get the chance. "We found the driver, Mr. Manchas. He went savage, like Otterton, but Police Chief Bogo did not believe that when I explained to him my need for backup. Nick stopped him from taking my badge, we found the missing mammals, and I got to keep my job."
Okay. Maybe Judy left out a lot of details. But nothing that changed who Nick was in her story: her friend.
"I still don't see it, Jude," her dad shook his head. He shared a glance with Judy's mother before continuing. "That fox must have thought he'd get some reward. I know I would, if I were given a chance to help an officer on a case."
"Stu," Judy's mother scolded him. With a soft sigh, she turned her gaze from her husband back to the camera. "Judy, you know it's a ... pretty big deal for us. Foxes are a bit..."
"Dangerous," Judy's dad concluded, and her mom solemnly nodded.
"Well, you've got it all wrong," Judy countered. "It was a long time ago that foxes were a threat to us. They aren't now. Predators are safe, kind. They don't want to harm us."
"Yeah, that's what they want you to think," said her dad. "Until they go savage on you, right? Like that otter. Who would have suspected him?"
"Oh, Stu, stop it," Judy's mom put her paw on his shoulder. "They don't mean to go savage, do they, Judy?"
"They don't," Judy confirmed. "They can't help it. It's..."
"In their DNA, isn't it?" Staring at the camera, Judy's dad firmly spoke, repeating the words he probably heard on a news casting of Judy's press conference, at some point. This time, Judy's mom didn't step in to say anything, leaving Judy to respond.
"Dad, that's.." she let out a deep sigh. "It might be related, but that doesn't mean it's the cause. We don't know what caused those predators to go savage."
Judy's dad shook his head. "But you know it's possible. I still don't believe that fox is up to any good."
"Dad, just give foxes a chance," Judy pleaded. "It's not like you think."
"Stu, Judy may be right on this one," Judy's mom looked at him, her ears lowered a bit. "It's... scary, I know, but do you really think our daughter would lie to us? For carrot's sake, she did make it on to the police force."
Judy's dad went quiet. He pursed his lips, perhaps thinking carefully over the conversation. Softly, Judy let out a sigh, one she hoped was quiet enough to go unnoticed. Sure, her parents frustrated her to no end when they took so long to see her side of things (kind of like when she had to convince them to let her attend the police academy in the first place), but she loved them. Nothing would change that. Her parents, as irritating and small-minded as they could be, were her two favorite bunnies in the world. And as much as they frustrated her, she didn't want them to think she'd be mad at them.
"At least try, please, Dad?" Judy spoke in a soft voice that couldn't be anything but genuine. "It would mean a lot to me."
After exhaling a heavy sigh, Judy's dad eventually nodded. "I can try. I'll give you that."
"Thank you," Judy said, finally feeling a smile tug at the corners of her lips. "I love you both, you know that, right?"
"And we love you, too." Judy's mom smiled back, and eventually her dad did as well. "We'll call you again tomorrow night, okay, sweetheart?"
"Love you, Jude the Dude," Judy's dad winked at her. "Use those cop skills to catch some good dreams, okay?"
Judy laughed a bit, finally feeling the mood lighten. She hated things getting so tense with her parents. "Will do. Good night, you two. I love you."
With her routine parent conversation out of the way, Judy got ready for bed and curled up beneath her blankets. The fact that her parents didn't seem very concerned about the lack of new information about Nick did bother her a bit. The first time she'd mentioned that Nick disappeared, it had only been a week or two, but now almost an entire month had passed. Wouldn't they expect to hear more about the fox, by now?
And Judy only wished she had more to tell. Maybe if she did, it would be easier to get them to see how wonderful a fox could be, too.
Instead, the wonderful fox was mad at her, perhaps hated her, and Judy felt way more alone than she had when she experienced that first failure night in Zootopia, her second night there overall.
More alone than she ever had.
But she was getting through to her parents, slowly. That meant something, right? Even with the amount of difficulty they gave her, Judy managed to get some kind of shift to happen. She hoped that meant good things for her current solitude, too.
That perhaps she could find her way out of this ditch, as well.
She needed it.
