You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you are both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday,they will fly.
Finally, they are airborne; They need more string and you keep letting it out; But with each twist of the ball of twine, There is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar, free and alone.
Only then do you know that you did your job.
~ Erma Bombeck
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Sunday, August 21, 2005
I Have Mouse
Well, I don't have one now.
I've thrown out the body Grayling brought me. Good ole Grayling! She'd been playing all around the dining room. I could hear the skittering and leap landings. When I looked, she was playing with, I thought, one of the catnip mice. She batted it once or twice more, pouncing on it and sniffing at it. When it rolled to a spot too near Trooper's tail, she hesitated and, then, sat down. She looked up at me. I decided I'd just move it away from him so she could go on playing when I realized this was a real mouse. With great surprise and pleasure, I told her what a good kitty she is. This, I repeated again and again. She just sat and soaked in my praise. When she was satisfied, she walked away and I got a plastic bag to remove the evidence of her good kittyhood.
Since then, I always remind her that she's the good kitty and she seems to like that phrase. She jumps up onto the futon and speaks to me or, if she's on the futon, she gets up and faces me, stretches gracefully and meows a message in her sweet little voice.
I know mice have all sorts of access but I have to wonder if this mouse didn't come in through the front door. Friday morning, I found the door open. Friday night, Grayling brought me her gift.
I've thrown out the body Grayling brought me. Good ole Grayling! She'd been playing all around the dining room. I could hear the skittering and leap landings. When I looked, she was playing with, I thought, one of the catnip mice. She batted it once or twice more, pouncing on it and sniffing at it. When it rolled to a spot too near Trooper's tail, she hesitated and, then, sat down. She looked up at me. I decided I'd just move it away from him so she could go on playing when I realized this was a real mouse. With great surprise and pleasure, I told her what a good kitty she is. This, I repeated again and again. She just sat and soaked in my praise. When she was satisfied, she walked away and I got a plastic bag to remove the evidence of her good kittyhood.
Since then, I always remind her that she's the good kitty and she seems to like that phrase. She jumps up onto the futon and speaks to me or, if she's on the futon, she gets up and faces me, stretches gracefully and meows a message in her sweet little voice.
I know mice have all sorts of access but I have to wonder if this mouse didn't come in through the front door. Friday morning, I found the door open. Friday night, Grayling brought me her gift.
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