They were never automatic, her visits. Sometimes often,
sometimes infrequent, but always upon appearance came a respected welcome;
four-legged royalty who seemed to set aside the “wild” part and dare proximity
for a snack. Her swaying and circling, and the occasional paw scratch on
the ground showing a bit of anxiety and impatience, seemed more like an attempt
at communication. That one could whistle and hold up an arm and then find
her racing from some unseen tall grass was, for me, anyway (and I suspect for others
as well), a sign that our friendship was still present and quite active. We
were the “pets” grazing past her territory and paying the toll with a variety
of “tributes.”
It has been a month since “the gal” has visited, responded, or
been sighted. Hopefully she is nursing a new brood and is much too busy to collect
our infatuated faces and smiles. But she has been longer absent than any
other span, and she hasn’t left a note, nor any indication of what is happening
with her.
A group of golfers awaits with hopeful curiosity that she’ll show
again, take some time to abate the concern, and confirm that it wasn’t
something we said …
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