Memories of Summer (we'll get a picture of the cat when health permits)

I haven’t left the yard for days. Joan’s fault. Something about the flu. But, it’s okay since there’s enough activity to keep my interest—that huge striped cat for example. She teases me, entices me, intrigues me with her great balloon of a belly and the way she struts along the chain-link fence acting as though she owns that particular strip of grass, as though she owns the air we breathe.

I admire her audacity. I like the way she doesn’t try to act like Saki or Shane. She’s her own cat. Sometimes I sit in the corner of the yard, and that cat sits on top of the fence and stares at me. We have a silent agreement—she doesn’t jump on my head; I don’t bark.

Best wishes, Juno