Day 149: Skunk's an old granny, deaf, and she sleeps like a rock when she takes a catnap. Crashed in front of the heater, her eyes were half-open and her whiskers and toes were twitching in dream, but she never knew I was sneaking a branch of pussywillows up next to her pussyfoots, careful to keep the flashlight beam from striking her face so I could bring the silver out in all its furry goodness.
The pussywillows bloomed late this year. I've been watching several spots for them, and only found one blooming in January in someone's driveway. These came from a new location for me, a vacant lot next to a store in town. Oh, I have them mapped, rest assured! They're getting harder and harder to find each year, and I'd like to know why.
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