‘Twas Sunday afternoon and all through the house the children were quiet, as soft as a mouse.  While Ben was at meetings I in my dress had just settled down for a nice Sunday rest.  When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.   Away to the sliding door I ran angry and mean threw back the curtains, tore open the screen.  When what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a CAT hunting chickens all shaking with fear.  I hooted and hollard and chased him around ’till onto the fence he leapt in one bound.   His eyes shone green and his lips snarled mean as he took one last look at the chaotic scene.  With a twitch of his tail and a turn of his head he stalked away lucky no chickens were dead.

( j/k on the new home title we’re still going to keep our cat)