Cat tracks of the living, breathing kind have graced our soil again. BlackJack, who we thought was long deceased, has returned to us. She showed up three nights ago to romp with Tirza our dog, and I feared in the darkness that the cat was some rabid stray come to attack as I saw the luminescent eyes approach with a constant yowl. She has proved to be the same irrational, unpredictable BlackJack, as fat and beautiful as ever. The huntress and roamer has stayed close these past days. Gabe has been outside with her every moment that I allow, coaxing her for pets and brushing, keeping her food bowl stocked and water bowl fresh.
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