Driving home without work in hand, an evening unplanned and not over examined - a much needed evening enjoying my garden, doing what I want, slowing down. The ritual of letting the two big dogs out - one heads out to search for snakes in his favorite places, the other runs out only to run in as quickly as she can to be with me. I pick up the Ancient Wonder Beagle who I then carry down the stairs (she gets up them okay - but she stumbles sometimes going down) - when I put her on the ground, she immediately puts her nose in the grass and starts to bark - that beagle bark that I'm sure annoys the neighbors. Haiku-the-Cat is participating in her own spring ritual - she's mesmorized, sitting on the back of a chair that is up against a large window, watching a male cardinal teach three baby cardinals how to get seed from the feeder. They're funny, the baby cardinals, they're ignoring their father (as they should) and are instead expanding their wings, unintentionally and intentionally hitting one another, their feathers less feathers than spikes with a hint of red. They're doing everything but eat the seed. Unlike the baby cardinals, my dogs eat (gulp) their food and Stanley returns to his snake hunt and Wood stays by my side and the Ancient Wonder Beagle curls back up on her bed. I go back outside - the garden loved yesterday's rain - the hydrangeas seem bigger, my tomatoes have grown, there are sugarsnap peas to harvest - I put my ruby moon hyacinth bean plants, the ones I started from seed, in the ground and make a "teepee" style trellis for them out of bamboo. It's cool - so I decide that tonight is the night to build a bonfire with the branches from the large pine tree that a friend helped me take down months ago. The needles catch quickly, and soon I have a large fire going as it starts to get dark outside. The cardinals have disappeared into the bald cypresses and Haiku is looking for something else to do. Perhaps there is a dog to tease? An evening unplanned.
My friends that came into town last weekend brought their 6 year old daughter, Lily - these friends used to be neighbors over three years ago now, and from an early age, Lily simply fell in love with my three-legged cat, Haiku. To the extent that at one point I was tempted to send the cat to her in Pennsylvania (but there was a man involved, and it would have been stupid stupid stupid on my part to have done that and thankfully I didn't) - but nonethless, Lily has remained attached to Haiku. Her mother, Kate, said that every night, when Lily says her prayers before bed, that she prays for her parents and grandparents and uncle, her dogs and cat, and...Haiku and her missing leg. Yes, Haiku's missing leg has been prayed for every evening for over three years now. Could there be a more cared for missing cat leg anywhere...ever? I just thought that was really sweet. 
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