the guest

Peering intently into the undergrowth, I was irrelevant until close enough to possibly reach out and tap on the twitching tail painting warnings into the evening air. Mildly distracted from her prey, I got a lukewarm loving greeting that said something like, ‘Your garden will do, I suppose”, and then off she traipsed again. A couple of laps of the house and a nose up at the milk, and off she trotted into the darkening night.

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