Minnie has a lot to say these days, she has gotten even more vocal than usual since the amputation of her leg. If all goes well, she will have her stitches taken out tomorrow – her wound seems to be healing beautifully. We let her out of the crate as often as we can, she goes from room to room complaining loudly about her plight, staring longingly out the window, eager to get back to her barn and her many hunting and hiding places.

Minnie is a very sweet creature, the vets and vet techs all talk about what a good cat she is, I am connecting with her more than before, and she is thriving under Maria’s tender and faithful love. I hear the two of them talking to one another at different times of the day, Minnie talking in the kitchen, as she explores the house, wanders around, looks for a way out.

We let her walk around with Red and Lenore, but not Frieda – too much prey drive there. I have never been totally easy with cats, dogs are simpler for me, but cats are quite fascinating, once you pay attention to them. They are the strangest combination of affectation and mayhem, they are lap creatures one second, wild animals the next, you can surely see the tiger in them.

As Minnie walks around, navigating around her hood, she meows regularly, it sounds like a complaint or lament, Maria seems to know what she is saying, I don’t really.

I suspect she is saying “get this thing off of my head. Let me out of here.” As I write this, she is sitting at my feet – the dogs are in the yard – commenting on my work. Minnie has a lot to say, I keep telling her one more day, she will be free again, although Maria says she might wait until I get back from Tulsa to let her out.