While some are enjoying the golden life of buttermilk pancakes. A bear chases me in my nightmare. Dances around others like Winnie the Pooh. The weight of brown is heavy. Flows downhill like syrup,. Like cinnamon, cloves and cardamom. And be a brown shadow. As it tracks across the grass. Bright as amber, dark. Brown as creases and frowns.

So, feeling a little melancholy, I pulled in to my driveway, parked, went in and looked around for Jack. Jack was struck to unusual silence by the tale of loss and woe. And she was so pretty, sort of an orange tabby with short fur, on the biggish side, but not really fat. Ok Pete, I got the picture .

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