As I went outside around dawn, I heard a rustle in the brush, then deliberate footfalls moving away from me. Turning toward the sound, I quietly walked a few steps, listening. The crunches of leaves were close together…could be a javelina. But at this time of day, more likely deer.
There she was. She stared back at me so still, I had to blink to make sure the shape was not a clump of yuccas.
Hi Baby, I whispered, wanting to give our diminishing wildlife all the encouragement possible to visit often. I love you.
Mrs. Mule Deer indicated she wasn’t impressed, lowering her head and continuing to browse.
What do the animals around us think of us writers? What do they do that is similar to writing? Is it the poetry of their limpid eyes?
They certainly don’t afford us any greater respect than they proffer one another, the latter being a compliment.
That line of thought brought cats to mind. I don’t have a cat, but I’m sure if I did, it would sit in my warm office chair every moment I’m not sitting here, and transfer to my lap reluctantly, trading a sound surface for one that wiggles and leaps up without a moment’s notice.
Does your cat – or dog – respect your career?