Mother has two lives. She is completely independent, lives in a pile of hay in the barn, has noone telling her what to do, roams in meadows and woods wreaking havoc on mice, birds, moles and rats and scattering their dead parts around. She vanishes in bitter cold and storms, and sometimes goes off on mysterious toots for two or three days, avoiding coyotes, foxes, cars, and the many dangers beyond the farm.

And she has another life with Maria and I. She always appears when we go out, loves to be held, to sit in Maria’s studio at night (when Frieda isn’t there). She gets her shots twice a year at the vet, gets a half a can of wed food every day, dry food in the barn in bad weather, and Minnie to hang around with when she feels like taking some sun or chilling. I worry about her sometimes, but Maria says Mother can take care of herself. I think this is true.