dear cat, my love,
what was in the garden that scared you so?
you were subdued and sleepy by the cushions and i knew you were different, mothers know these things.
i didn't see yr scraped paws until the evening when you went all wobbly on the edge of the bath.
you hid all afternoon and i worried all night. i checked the garden...i found nothing untoward. but when i watched you through the window, when you sat in the middle by the tree, and stared at the dark patch by the fuchsia and the mirror, i wondered what it was, that scared you so.
i imagined all sorts of possibilities (you know me):
* a tiny but vicious fox
* a fugitive, gruff and brooding, like in whistle down the wind
* a spectral nastiness emanating from the mallow root
* a bad twin you, that you saw in the mirror, that you didn't like
* a cruel child, hiding
* a rare and deadly poisoned bloom
* an abandoned baby (kids freak you out - i know)
* an injured, cranky, domineering raven
* an ominous ticking bomb
* a demon
...you know, the kinds of things i worry about.
maybe you just didn't like the cold.
it is nearly november.