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.

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