We got a new cat in Canada. It disappeared after a couple of weeks. We plastered missing cat posters all over. Then I heard a woman calling out to the boat. This is the cat, she shouted.
It turned out to be a different cat. But I couldn't say for sure, since our cat had been missing for two weeks already. I thought she might have changed.
Nina found our cat the next day. Now we had two cats. They were almost identical, a siamese mix of some sort.
It turned out to be a different cat. But I couldn't say for sure, since our cat had been missing for two weeks already. I thought she might have changed.
Nina found our cat the next day. Now we had two cats. They were almost identical, a siamese mix of some sort.
We entered Hudson River in the autumn. The trees were all ablaze. I had really radiant dreams.
But the hunting season had started and we could hear what sounded like regular shootouts at dusk. These guys were serious, with camouflage painted faces.
I was about to take the cat ashore. The cat was at the bow, hesitating. From the dinghy I could see her puffy upper lip and I suddenly got a vague thought about John Malkovitch. I might have been worried about the hunting militia. We hardly saw any wildlife but I felt unsafe in the ongoing war against ducks and deers.
So I rowed slowly ashore, kind of reluctant. I had promised to take better pictures of the cat. Just in case she disappeared again.
