Notes from a Hillside Farm; being Musings and Observations on Life, Letters, and our Most Holy Faith, by a Lawyer, Sheep- farmer, and Communicant of the Orthodox Church
Monday, June 03, 2002
The old cat came to the door with a young cottontail in his mouth, still living. Perhaps I have grown too soft, perhaps I am just tired of arguing with the cat about bringing dinner inside still kicking. I got the rabbit loose and freed it over the wire fence into a tangle of honeysuckle. Beast, the cat, followed me down to the barn, hoping I still had the rabbit hidden up my sleeve somewhere.