Georgia is safely ensconced in a bathroom in this small corner of the world. She wraps paws around necks, licks and bites, and has been started on elk meat...one cannot introduce cats suddenly to unicorn meat...it's much too rich. She'll start on the elk, move up to ostrich, and then, by fits and starts, start supping on unicorn. She has shown a preference for a quiet, but woody Merlot with her elk, but will probably start on a Riesling for the ostrich.
Georgia is also on my mind in another way. I am hurting for a friend whose cat went to the Rainbow Bridge yesterday. Love doesn't hurt. Separation hurts...saying Goodbye hurts. Regret hurts. How can people think animals have no souls? If they had no souls, how could they be a part of ours?
The day is crisp and chill, and that lemony quality of the light is mutating into a paler tone. The leaves and grass are rimmed with frost and crunch under the feet, leaving dark footprints behind. The tips of the grass gleam with sunlight. It is a quiet, clean day, where one cat passes and one cat begins life anew...in the eternal round of the seasons in the world and this life.
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